


My 190-Pound Life

by crazyassCas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addiction, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Benny Lafitte & Dean Winchester Friendship, Blow Jobs, Body Image, Body Positivity, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean, Breaking Up & Making Up, Castiel Has a Religious Family, Castiel and Animals, Castiel and Mental Health Issues, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Chubby Castiel, Dean Gets Therapy, Dean Has a Dog, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Marijuana, Mean Naomi, Mechanic Dean, Mental Health Issues, Naomi Being a Dick, No Sam, Parent Naomi, Public Blow Jobs, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Stoner Castiel, Switching, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Dean, Topping from the Bottom, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Winchester Coping Mechanisms, conversion therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 103,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10069208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyassCas/pseuds/crazyassCas
Summary: Twelve years ago, Dean Winchester underwent a life-changing surgery that completely turned his life around. He's stuck to the lifestyle changes, and he honestly never thought he'd get this far. He's got a job and lives on his own, he's healthy, and he looks pretty damn good, if he does say so himself. When he meets Castiel Novak, a chubby stoner in his mid-twenties, everything is perfect. But when Cas' lifestyle choices threaten everything Dean's worked so hard to achieve, he's faced with a difficult decision when he realizes that he still doesn't have as much control over himself as he thought he did.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the tags before proceeding!
> 
> So this is what happens when a fanfiction writer watches way too much My 600-Pound Life, and wonders how their food addiction still effects them years down the road, even after they've lost the weight. I think we all know that Dean's a huge foodie, and also displays addictive behavior (although canonically it's alcohol), so I honestly don't think that, in an AU, this is that far-fetched.
> 
> I wasn't sure how I felt about this idea when I first started writing it, but I've got about 4 other works started right now and, for some reason, this is the only one that's flowed. So I hope you guys like it. Please let me know what you think! I live off of your lovely comments! As usual, constructive criticism is highly encouraged, and you can also find me on tumblr at [casorderspizza](http://casorderspizza.tumblr.com/) or email me at crazyassCas@gmail.com <3

_April_

Dean had just taken a break from the vehicle he was working on, and was wiping off his hands on a shop rag, when Bobby's gruff voice came across the bay. "Dean, somebody up front."

"I got it." Dean tossed the cloth onto a workbench and rounded the corner into the lobby. "What can I do for you?"

The man looked up from his phone and piercing blue eyes met his. "Hi, I was just wondering if you guys had time for an oil change? But if you're busy, I understand. I can make an appointment to come back."

His voice was deep and low, and it almost seemed out of place considering how young he looked. Dean thought it maybe had something to do with the fact that he was carrying just a bit of extra weight, giving his face a slightly rounder appearance.

Dean realized he was staring and lowered his eyes, clearing his throat. "Uh, no. It's fine. I'm free."

The man smiled. "Great. Thanks." He reached down into his pocket, and Dean noticed he was wearing a worn Led Zeppelin shirt, a bit tight around his midsection. He held up the keys. "Here you go."

Dean took the keys from his outstretched hand. "I like your shirt."

The guy looked down, as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing, then looked back up with a shy smile. "Thanks. I'm Cas, by the way."

"Dean. Give me about fifteen minutes."

Cas nodded. "Thank you. It's the seventy-eight Lincoln."

Dean returned his nod and walked out from behind the desk, past him, and out into the parking lot. He climbed into the Lincoln Continental, and as soon as he started it, Boston began playing from the speakers. He glanced down at the radio, and, seeing it was a cassette tape, gave an approving nod. The guy had good taste. He pulled the car around and into the bay and got to work.

When he finished, he re-entered the lobby, wiping his hands off on a rag and shoving it into his back pocket. He noticed his co-worker, Jo, leaning on the counter and talking to Cas, who was sitting down in one of the chairs and fiddling with his phone. Jo was clearly flirting with him, but he didn't seem interested.

"You harassing my customers, Jo?" Dean asked teasingly, coming up behind her to write up Cas' receipt. He tried to ignore the tendrils of jealousy creeping up into the back of his mind. Cas was just another customer; he had no right to feel jealous of anything.

"I wouldn't call it that," she said, leaning back from the counter and rolling her eyes.

Dean flicked his eyes over to Cas, who was smirking in his direction.

"Why don't you go make yourself useful somewhere, huh?" Dean mumbled.

Jo rolled her eyes again and walked out from behind the counter. "Bye, Cas," she said, waggling her fingers at him as she disappeared through the door.

"Sorry about that," Dean offered, leaning forward and scribbling out Cas' receipt. "You know teenagers."

He glanced up to see Cas was now standing on the other side of the counter. "It's alright." He paused as Dean looked back down at what he was writing. "I'm sure I would have been interested... if I was into women."

Dean's eyebrows shot up and he lifted his eyes. Cas had one elbow on the counter, his cheek leaning on his fist as he stared down at Dean, the fingers of his right hand tapping on the counter.

"Oh," Dean said quietly, straightening up. Their eyes locked for a moment, until Dean could feel his face warming. He looked down at the counter and cleared his throat, reaching for Cas' receipt. "Your total is twenty-nine seventeen," he said, placing it in front of Cas.

Cas didn't seem bothered by Dean's deflection, instead reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He opened it up and handed Dean a debit card. Once the transaction was finished and Dean gave him his card back, Cas pulled out a five and held it out. "That's for you."

"Oh, that's... that's not necessary," he said quietly, holding one hand up in a gesture of refusal.

"I insist," Cas said sternly. "You performed a service, and I always tip those in the service industry. It's customary."

Dean nodded and reached out to take the bill. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_ , for fitting me in without notice," Cas said, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

Dean nodded again, and they stood in awkward silence for a good sixty seconds before Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Do you, uh... need anything else?"

Cas cracked a grin, obviously amused by how flustered he was making Dean. "My keys?"

Dean huffed a laugh, reaching into his pocket for them. "Right. Sorry."

"It's quite alright," he said, reaching out and taking the keys from Dean. "Have a good one."

He turned around, and Dean looked towards the other door that led out to the bay. He could see Bobby's legs sticking out from beneath the hood of a Volvo, and Jo was nowhere to be seen. "Uh, wait," he said quickly, turning back to the front door.

Cas stopped with his hand on the door handle, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Dean. "Yes?"

"Uh..." Dean looked away and reached up to scratch the back of his neck, which was suddenly prickling with sweat. "I was wondering, if... maybe you want to, um..." He glanced up, letting his hand fall away from his neck to wipe his suddenly-clammy palm on his pants. "Go out some time? ...For a beer or something?"

Cas smiled. "Yeah." He backed away from the door and turned so he was standing at the counter again. "I'd like that."

Dean huffed a relieved sigh and gave him a nervous smile. "Awesome."

"Do you want my number?" Cas asked.

Dean nodded, looking down and scanning the desk for a scrap of paper. He found one and placed it on the upper portion of the counter in front of Cas, along with a pen. Cas picked it up and wrote down his name and number, before placing the pen back down and smiling at Dean. "Text me when you get off."

Dean nodded. "Okay."

Cas lingered for a second longer before turning and disappearing out the door. Dean pushed out a relieved sigh. It never failed to make him nervous asking people out, and he usually never did it at work, but he just couldn't let Cas walk out that door without asking.

* * *

It was Saturday, so he got off at one. He went home, his nerves building at the thought of texting Cas. Would he want to hang out tonight? He pushed his front door open and his chocolate lab, Floyd, jumped up from the couch to greet him.

"Hey, buddy," Dean cooed, reaching down to pat his head. "Wanna go outside?"

Floyd barked and trotted to the back door. Dean followed him and opened the door, and Floyd raced out into the backyard. Dean followed him, and after he did his business, he threw the ball for him for a few minutes.

They went back inside, and Floyd got a drink from his water bowl as Dean made a sandwich. He entered the nutrition information into his tracking app and sat down on the couch. Floyd jumped up and settled next to him as Dean flicked on the TV. He took two bites from his sandwich before setting the plate down on the coffee table and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He'd entered Cas' number as soon as Cas had walked out the door, and now he stared at his contact on the screen, his mind racing.

Finally he swallowed down his nervousness and pressed the text button.

**Dean: hey, it's dean**

He hit send and stared at the phone for a second before setting it down and picking his sandwich back up. He'd only taken two more bites before his phone went off again.

**Cas: Hey :)**

He found himself grinning like an idiot. Not only had he texted him back right away, but he'd included a smiley face. Dean knew he wasn't bad looking, at least not with clothes on, but the self-consciousness from childhood had never really gone away. He was still amazed whenever he managed to get a date. He remembered the days he was sure he'd die alone before he even hit thirty- and that wasn't an exaggeration, but a cold, hard fact.

**Dean: when do you want to get together?**

**Cas: Whenever you want. I'm free tonight if that's not too soon.**

Dean could feel his heart picking up the pace in his chest.

**Dean: yeah, that's fine. have you ever been to the Roadhouse?**

**Cas: No. Do you want to go there?**

**Dean: yeah. they have food, too, so we can get dinner and have a beer.**

**Dean: if you want**

**Cas: That sounds fine.**

**Dean: want me to pick you up at 8?**

Cas texted him back with his address and Dean told him he'd see him at eight. It was about a thirty minute drive, and it was only two-thirty, which left him with five hours to shower and get ready.

He sat around on the couch until five, then he took Floyd for an hour-long walk. He took a shower afterwards, and by six-thirty he was standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom. He dried himself off with the towel and let it fall to the floor. He stared at himself for a few minutes, tracing his fingers over the scars that ran along the underside of his pectoral muscles. It had been ten years, so they were thin and faded white these days, but they were still visible. He turned away from the mirror to get dressed before he got caught up in the rest of the scars. They were more than a fair trade for what he looked- and felt- like before, but they still made him sad, and a little angry. He wished he could go back and do it all over again, and never let himself get to that point- where he'd ruined his body beyond repair.

He went over to the dresser and got himself dressed in a dark red Henley and blue jeans. He glanced over towards the bed, where Floyd was staring at him and thumping his tail.

"I hope he likes dogs," Dean said, closing the drawer. He walked over and reached out a hand, rubbing Floyd's head. "'Cause you and me are a package deal."

When Dean pulled up in front of Cas' house, Cas was sitting on the front step. He quickly stood up and strode across the lawn, stepping down from the curb and pulling open the door. He slid down into the seat and smiled at Dean.

"Hello."

"Hey," Dean said with a grin. "You ready for some good food?"

"Always," Cas responded, nodding once.

"I've known Ellen, the owner, for years," Dean said, pulling back out onto the road. "She's married to my boss. They're family friends."

"I don't think any of my family's friends like me very much," Cas stated, looking out the window. He didn't sound upset, but as if he was simply stating a fact.

"Well screw them then," Dean said quickly.

Cas turned to him, one eyebrow raised, and then he smiled. "Exactly."

* * *

"Hey, Ellen," Dean said with a smile, looking up at the older blonde woman as she set down their menus.

"Hey, hun," Ellen returned. "The usual for you?"

Dean shook his head. "No. I might get something else, as long as, um... y'know-"

Ellen smiled warmly. "Of course, hun, I can get the info for you."

"Thank you."

"Anything to drink?"

He ordered a water and Cas ordered a coke. She walked off and Dean faced forward again to see Cas staring down at the menu.

"Do you like bacon?" Dean asked.

Cas looked up and nodded.

"Well they have a really good bacon cheeseburger," Dean suggested, "and it comes with bacon cheese fries."

Cas raised an eyebrow and set the menu back down on the table. "I guess I know what I'm getting, then." He paused. "What about you?"

"I'm probably going to get the grilled chicken. I don't really do the greasy stuff."

Cas smiled. "So how did you know the burger was good?"

Dean shifted in his seat. "Well... I used to. But I don't anymore."

"Oh," Cas said softly.

Ellen re-appeared with their drinks, setting them down on the table. "You boys ready to order?"

"Yeah, he's gonna get the bacon double cheeseburger with the loaded fries, and I'll have the grilled chicken." Dean handed her both the menus and she nodded.

"You got it. I'll be back in a minute with your info."

"What is she talking about?" Cas asked.

"Nutrition information," Dean sighed. "Not to sound weird, or... shallow, but... I keep track."

"Oh," Cas said with a nod. "I'm sure you've noticed," he said, and Dean saw his upper arm moving, probably placing his hand on his stomach beneath the table, "but I don't. I think life's too short to bother with that stuff." He moved his hand away and shrugged, picking up his straw and removing the wrapper.

Dean wasn't sure what to say about the first part of his comment without sounding like a dick, because yes, he had noticed... but he also didn't care. So he just shrugged as well. His life would've been cut significantly short if he _didn't_ bother with that stuff, so... "I don't really have a choice," he said.

Cas tilted his head and squinted across the table at him, and it was the most adorable thing Dean had seen all day. "What do you mean?"

Dean's lips parted to answer, but he hesitated, thinking back to two years ago- the last time he was honest with someone from the get-go.

_"Why are you so strict?" the brunette asked, eyeing Dean's salad as she dug into her own pasta dish._

_"Because I have to be," he said simply._

_Her tongue came out to lick a stray bit of sauce from her lower lip. "What, were you like, super fat or something?"_

_Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. No use lying. "Yes."_

_She raised an eyebrow, and Dean could see her eyes trailing down his chest to where the view disappeared under the table. "I never would've guessed," she said honestly, bringing her eyes back to his face. "How big were you?"_

_He could feel his face heating up with embarrassment, but he ignored it. The way he was in the past was just that- in the past. He'd worked so hard to get to where he was today, so he didn't really see the point in hiding it._

_"Let's just say I could have been on TV."_

_Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "No way," she breathed. "So you were, like, six-hundred pounds?" She reached out for her drink._

_Dean looked down at the table, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Close to it."_

_"Holy shit." She snorted a disbelieving laugh around the straw in her mouth, and Dean looked back up at her through narrowed eyes. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I just... find it hard to believe."_

_"Well it's true," he mumbled._

_"How does that even happen?" she asked. She brought her fork to her mouth again._

_"Poor lifestyle choices," he answered flatly._

_She rolled her eyes. "Well, duh, but I mean, like, how do you let it get to that point?"_

_Dean gritted his teeth. "Maybe we can talk about something else."_

_She at least had the decency to look apologetic. "Sure... Sorry."_

"Dean?"

He was brought back to the situation at hand to see Cas staring at him from across the table, but he couldn't really remember exactly what Cas had asked him. "I have poor self control," he settled on, shrugging lightly. He hoped it sufficed as an answer.

Cas nodded in understanding but Dean knew he really had no idea just how true it was. They talked for a few more minutes about other things until Ellen showed up with their food.

She set down two index cards as well, and Dean quickly grabbed them. He hadn't meant for her to give him the info for Cas' meal.

"Enjoy," she said, walking back off to the kitchen.

"Is one of those for mine?" Cas asked, nodding his head towards the cards in Dean's hand.

"Uh... yeah," Dean said, looking down at them. His was less than four hundred calories, but Cas'... Holy shit. Sixteen-hundred calories, way over the recommended daily percentage of fat-

"Let me see," Cas said, reaching across the table for it. Dean handed it over, and Cas' eyes widened. "Holy fuck," he breathed.

"What did you think it would be?" Dean asked.

Cas shrugged. "I don't know. I've literally never given this stuff a second thought." He peered up from the card to see Dean staring at him. "...What?"

"I don't care, you know," Dean said softly. "I just..." He looked down at his plate and sighed. "I have to be strict with myself." He looked back up to meet Cas' eyes. "But I don't care what other people look like."

Cas smiled and set the card down. "Thank you, but I didn't think you did. It's not like I exactly hide it under layers or loose clothes or anything, and you still asked me out, so..." He shrugged.

Dean nodded. Cas had a point. He wished he could've had that confidence, especially since these days he actually thought he looked pretty damn good. But when you grew up as the fat kid, your mindset never really changed, no matter how much weight you lost.

Cas took a bite of his burger, chewed, swallowed, and washed it down with a gulp of coke. "Good recommendation," he murmured. "This is awesome." He plucked two fries from the plate, and Dean watched as the cheese stretched a good few inches before finally snapping. Cas popped them into his mouth. "So," he said, snapping Dean out of his trance, "Why do you have to be so strict, hmm? Surely you can let loose _once_ in a while."

"Once in a while turns into all the time," Dean mumbled, picking up his fork and poking at his chicken. "I prefer it this way. No surprises when I get on the scale. If I fucked up, I know about it."

Cas raised an eyebrow, chewing another bite of his burger. "Did you used to be really overweight or something?" He swallowed what was in his mouth. "If... you don't mind me asking."

Dean sighed, setting his fork down and leaning back in his seat. He studied Cas from across the table. Cas certainly was in no position to judge him, although Dean wouldn't even consider him fat anyway, just... slightly chubby. But the conversation with the brunette was still fresh in the back of his mind, and their conversation was starting to sound eerily similar, so he decided the less Cas knew for now, the better.

"It was more about the fact that I wasn't in control," he answered.

Cas nodded slowly. "Well... whatever you looked like before, you look, like... amazing now." Cas mumbled the last part, turning his eyes down to his plate as his face flushed pink.

Dean chuckled. "Thank you."

Cas raised his eyes again. "How did you do it?"

"A lot of hard work," Dean answered honestly. "Why? Are you interested in losing weight?"

Cas shrugged, looking down at the burger in his hands. "Not really."

Dean nodded and started cutting his chicken as Cas worked on his burger.

"So, uh, where do you work?" Dean asked, eager to change the subject already.

Cas snorted a laugh. "PetSmart. Shitty retail job, nothing special."

"But you get to pet dogs on the clock, so that's good, right?"

Cas smiled. "Yes. That's definitely a bonus."

"That's good that you like dogs," Dean said with a nod, popping a bite of chicken into his mouth.

Cas raised an eyebrow as he reached for another fry. "Why?"

"Because I have one," Dean answered. "He's my best friend, so what he says goes." He gave Cas a crooked grin.

"Oh, well in that case, I hope he likes me," Cas said, his face stone-cold serious.

Dean laughed. "I'm sure he will."

"How long have you been a mechanic?"

Dean tried to think back. He'd gotten the apprenticeship with Bobby three years after his surgery, so... "Nine years?"

Cas nodded, then looked up with one eyebrow cocked. "Wait... how old are you?"

"Thirty-four." Dean paused. "...How old are you?"

Cas' eyes widened. "I'm twenty-six."

Dean's eyes widened as well. "Oh, shit. Now I feel old as fuck."

Cas laughed. "I never would've guessed you were thirty-four."

"Thank you," Dean said with a chuckle.

"My birthday is next month though," Cas continued, "so I guess I'm basically twenty-seven."

"Oh, good," Dean said quickly. "So I'm only seven years older than you. Because eight would've just been too much," he joked.

They talked more as they finished their food, and Dean ordered them each a beer. When Ellen brought the bill, Cas pulled out his wallet, but Dean held a hand out to stop him.

"No, I got it."

"I thought we could split it," Cas explained.

Dean raised an eyebrow, but didn't look up as he thumbed through the cash in his wallet. "No, I asked _you_ out, so I pay. That's how a date works."

Cas nodded. "Right."

Dean dropped the cash onto the table, self-doubt suddenly bubbling up in his stomach. "I mean... this _was_ a date, right?"

"Yes," Cas said quickly. "It just... I don't know. It feels weird having someone else pay for me."

"...Have you never been on a date?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrow again. He couldn't really talk, seeing as he hadn't been on many either, but there was nothing wrong with Cas. He couldn't imagine that the guy had never been asked out before.

Cas shrugged. "Not really. I usually meet people by hanging out with mutual friends, and we just hang out, and it... goes from there."

"I see," Dean said quietly. "Well, I asked you out on a date. So, I pay." He flashed Cas a grin, which Cas nervously returned. "Are you ready to go?"

Cas nodded and they stood up and made their way towards the door. Dean waved to Ellen on his way out, and when they got to the car, he slid in front of Cas to open the passenger door for him.

"Thank you," Cas said sheepishly.

When he pulled up to Cas', Cas looked out the window to the house. His shoulders sagged a bit, and he turned back around to face Dean.

"I'd invite you in, but... parents."

Dean nodded. "I guess PetSmart doesn't pay much, huh?"

Cas shook his head. "No." He paused. "I had a really good time, though. I'd like to do it again... if you want."

Dean smiled. "Yes, I would." It made him happy to see the smile that spread across Cas' face. "If you want, you can come to my place. Meet my dog and watch a movie or something."

Cas smiled a little wider. "I'd like that." His eyes dropped to Dean's mouth, and Dean really hoped he would scoot over so they could lean forward and kiss. But Cas was all the way across the bench seat, and although his tongue came out to wet his lower lip, he dropped his eyes and reached for the door handle. "I should go. My parents are nosy as fuck, and I have work in the morning anyway." He looked back up. "...I'll text you?"

Dean pushed down his disappointment and nodded. "Yeah. Text me whenever you want, Cas."

Cas smiled and pushed the door open. After he climbed out of the car and up onto the curb, he turned around and leaned down. "Thanks again for dinner. Really."

Dean gave him a charming smile. "Anytime, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean." Cas straightened up and closed the door, and was striding across the lawn before Dean could respond.

He watched Cas go for only a minute, not wanting to seem like a creeper, before pulling away from the curb and heading home. He was kind of disappointed he didn't get to kiss Cas, but he told himself that it seemed like Cas really wanted to. He must have had his reasons, and they both had a good time, so he tried not to let it bother him.

It was late when he arrived home, almost eleven-thirty. Floyd bounded to the door, and Dean reached down to pet him.

"Hey, buddy! Wanna go for a walk?"

He got an excited bark in response.

"It's late though, so we'll have to make it short. I'll make it up to you tomorrow." He grabbed Floyd's leash from the hook by the door and leashed him up, and off they went. But he could never deny Floyd all the sniffing he loved to do, and Dean enjoyed the exercise, so they didn't make it back to the house until a quarter after midnight.

He brushed his teeth as Floyd got a drink of water in the kitchen, and at twelve-thirty they were both crawling under the covers.

* * *

Dean slept in the next morning, as Sunday was one of his two days off. He woke up around eleven to his phone vibrating on the night stand. He clumsily reached out for it, nearly knocking over his glass of water, and squinted at the screen. It was a text from Cas.

**Cas: Good morning dean. Will you send me a picture of your dog?**

Dean let out a sleepy chuckle.

**Dean: good morning to you, too, cas. and sure. not enough dogs at work today?**

He exited out of the conversation and opened the camera app. He rolled over to face Floyd, who was asleep next to him, his head poking out from beneath the blanket and lying on the pillow. Just as he snapped the picture, he got another text from Cas.

**Cas: Nope. Only been here 3 hours though.**

Dean smiled and sent the picture, including a caption.

**Dean: he uses a pillow like a person**

**Cas: That's adorable. And it's also adorable that he sleeps in the bed with you.**

**Dean: every night. but dont worry, theres still room for one more tho**

He hit send, and three minutes ticked by before he realized he might have been going too far too soon. They'd only had one date... _last night_. And they didn't even friggin' kiss yet. Another minute and he was debating sending ' _for another dog, i mean_ '. But then his phone vibrated and another text popped up on his screen.

**Cas: Sorry, had to help a customer. God, it's like they think i work here or something. Anyway, that's good to know ;)**

He huffed a relieved laugh that woke Floyd, who squinted at him through hooded lids.

"Sorry I woke you, buddy," Dean murmured, reaching over to stroke his fur. "You hungry?"

Floyd's ears perked up and he lifted his head, tilting it at Dean.

"I'll take that as a yes," Dean chuckled, pushing himself up. "Come on." As they made their way into the kitchen, he typed out another text to Cas.

**Dean: i gotta go. need to feed floyd and take him for his walk. but text me when you get off,** **i don't want you getting in trouble at work**

As he poured the kibble into Floyd's bowl, his phone went off again.

**Cas: You're right. My manager's giving me some serious side-eye. Talk to you later.**

As Floyd ate, Dean made himself a small egg-white omelette with some mushrooms and peppers. He washed down his vitamins with a swig of water, entered the info for his breakfast into his app, and sat down at the table. He ate it slowly as Floyd begged from the floor. As Dean finished, he rolled his eyes at the dog. "You're so bad. You just ate." But he tossed Floyd the last piece of egg, with a slice of mushroom in it, anyway.

"Come on," he said, standing up. He deposited his plate in the sink and headed for the door, Floyd at his heels. "Walk time."

They walked for forty-five minutes before turning around and walking forty-five back. When they returned, Floyd took a long drink and collapsed onto his dog bed in the living room for a nap. Dean sprawled out on the couch and picked up the remote, turning on the TV and flicking through the channels. He settled on a nature show about lions and pulled his phone from his pocket, typing out a text to Charlie.

**Dean: we still on for today?**

Charlie was definitely his best friend. They'd been friends since she moved into town in the eighth grade, and despite Dean being a fat loser, she befriended him anyway. They quickly became best friends, and since Dean didn't really go anywhere, they often spent the day after school at his house, working on homework together and playing video games. She never said anything about Dean's eating habits. Thinking back on it now, Dean knows that that wasn't necessarily a good thing. But he hadn't been ready to change, nor did he think he could, so any comments she would've made, no matter how well-intentioned, would've only served to make him feel worse about himself, anyway.

She'd never given up on him, though, even when he dropped out in junior year because he couldn't fit in the desks anymore. She'd still come by nearly every day, keeping him company and keeping him informed on school drama, since he rarely left the house. She was there when he finally decided to get the surgery, and she was there through all of the ups and downs after. She was there to celebrate with him when he dropped his first 100 pounds and she was there as a shoulder to cry on when things got to be too much and he was sure he couldn't do it.

So yeah, she was definitely his best friend.

**Charlie: duh. but good thing you texted me, i was still passed out. slept through my alarm.**

**Dean: jeez charlie, it's already like 1**

**Charlie: shut up, i went to the bar last night**

**Dean: oh yeah? did you have a nice craft club afterwards?**

He grinned into his phone as he typed it. He wasn't sure when that started, but he loved calling Charlie's sexy time "craft club". It drove her crazy.

**Charlie: ugh like it's any of your business dean. but yes. lots of SCISSORING.**

He wrinkled his nose and another text came through.

**Charlie: just kidding. i didn't score. but i had fun picturing your face when i said that.**

**Dean: har har**

**Dean: what time will you be here? there's nothing on TV**

**Charlie: so read a book, you uncultured swine. ill be there in an hour. and how did YOUR date go? who was pitcher and who was catcher?**

**Dean: you know i don't move that fast**

**Charlie: well did you at least get to third base?**

**Dean: knock it off, charlie. and if you must know, we didn't even get to first**

**Charlie: you poor soul**

**Charlie: guess it didn't go well then?**

**Dean: it went great actually. but when i dropped him off, idk... he kind of got nervous and he said his parents were nosy. maybe he thought they would see**

**Charlie: his PARENTS? how old is this guy?**

**Dean: 26**

**Charlie: and he still lives with his parents? hope he's not some kind of psycho lol**

**Dean: he's not. we'll talk more when you get here. shouldn't you be getting ready, anyway?**

**Charlie: yeah yeah. keep your pants on. ill see you soon.**

* * *

"So I'm concerned this guy still lives with his parents," Charlie said, shifting slightly beneath Dean. He was sprawled out on his back on the couch, his head in her lap.

"He works in retail, Charlie. They don't pay very well." He paused. "Besides, I think you're forgetting that I lived with my parents until I was twenty-five. Didn't own a car until I was twenty-four. Didn't lose my god damn virginity until I was twenty-six."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "You're an extenuating circumstance, Dean. You were sick."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, in the head. And you're calling _this_ poor guy a psycho."

She huffed a sigh, carding her fingers through Dean's hair. "I was just messing with you. And you're not a psycho. You were an addict."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean mumbled. "Tell that to any other addict out there and they'll laugh so hard they piss themselves."

She grabbed Dean's face in her free hand and turned his head to face her. "Dean, stop it. You and I both know food addiction is real. I thought you were past this whole being-so-hard-on-yourself thing."

"I'm not..." He exhaled sharply through his nose. "I'm not being hard on myself, Charlie. I'm just saying that other people don't get it. And you've got to admit that it's true."

She hummed in agreement, letting go of his face and resuming carding the fingers of her other hand through his hair. "And your mother certainly didn't help with her constant enabling."

Dean snorted a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You've got plenty to say about my mother."

"Yes, I do," she said flatly. "She didn't seem to care that she was killing you, even after I tried talking to her about it."

"She thought she was making me happy," Dean said weakly.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, except you were fucking miserable."

"I know," Dean agreed.

He couldn't really blame his mom. Sure, he was literally raised with unhealthy eating. When his brother Sam was stillborn, it broke his mom's heart. She poured everything she had into making Dean happy, and she flat-out refused to tell him no unless absolutely necessary. And apparently his ballooning weight as a child still didn't constitute a "no" as _necessary_. But as he got older, he knew it was a problem, and he still did nothing about it. So he couldn't place all of the blame on his mom.

"We've had this conversation a million times," he sighed.

"You're right," she said. "So what's he look like?"

Dean closed his eyes, and Charlie watched the corners of his mouth lift into a small smile. "He's got these intense blue eyes. I've never seen anything like them. And dark brown hair. When he came into the shop it was kind of all over the place, and it was hot as hell. But he brushed it for our date. And, uh... he's got a really nice smile."

"He sounds cute," Charlie surmised. "Do you have a picture?"

Dean opened his eyes to look up into hers. "No," he frowned.

Charlie returned his frown. "That sucks. You should ask him for one."

"That's creepy, Charlie. We've only been on one date."

"Come on," Charlie groaned. "Just ask him."

"No," Dean said quickly. "I'm not trying to scare him away."

"Fine," she huffed. "Try looking him up on Facebook."

Dean thought about it for a brief moment, but then realized he didn't know his last name. "I don't know his last name. And I think his first name is short for something."

"What did you say it was again?"

"Cas."

"Probably Casper," Charlie guessed.

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe. Maybe I'll find out one day."

She shifted a bit in her seat, causing Dean to sit up. "Let's get to why I'm here, huh?" She jumped off the couch and grabbed her bag from the floor on her way to the TV, pulling out a few DVDs. "Harry Potter marathon!" she whooped. "Go make popcorn."

"Yes, ma'am," Dean replied, pushing himself up from the couch and walking into the kitchen. Floyd jumped up to follow him, and Dean grabbed a rope toy from the floor and played with him while the popcorn popped. Once it was finished, he sat back down on the couch with the bowl. Charlie already had the movie started and paused, and as soon as Dean sat down she hit play. The sign for Privet Drive appeared on the screen just as Dean's phone went off.

Charlie shot him an annoyed look, but there was no heat behind it. They'd seen the movie a million times, anyway. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen.

"It's Cas."

"What did he say?"

"That he just got home from work. We were texting this morning but I told him to text me later so he didn't get in trouble at work."

"Ask him for a picture."

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, _Char_."

She playfully punched him in the shoulder. She hated when he called her that, and that's exactly why he did it. She said it reminded her of the sound a Charmander made.

"Fine." She snatched the popcorn bowl off his lap. "No popcorn for you then."

He shrugged. "I've eaten enough food to last me the rest of my life. I'm good."

"You know you want some," she teased, popping a piece into her mouth. She made a pleased sound as she chewed. "Is this extra butter?"

"Yep. Just for you," Dean said distractedly, typing away on his phone.

**Dean: how was work?**

"What are you saying?" she asked, peering over to peek at his phone.

"Hey!" he said quickly, pulling his phone away. "Watch the movie, nosy."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Whatever."

His phone went off again and he turned off the ringer so Charlie wouldn't hassle him about texting through the movie.

**Cas: Boring as fuck. What're you doing?**

**Dean: watching harry potter with my friend charlie**

**Cas: Sounds fun. Should i be jealous?**

**Dean: she's gay, lol**

**Cas: Being straight is overrated.**

Dean snorted a laugh, and Charlie looked at him suspiciously, but didn't comment, instead turning her eyes back to the TV screen. Another text popped up on the screen shortly after the first one.

**Cas: So which movie are you watching?**

**Dean: the first one**

**Cas: It's been so long since i've watched harry potter.**

**Dean: we can watch it when you come over, if you want. when do you want to do that, by the way?**

He waited nervously as the three dots indicating Cas was typing appeared and disappeared repeatedly over the next minute.

**Cas: Whenever you want. I'm off wednesday :)**

**Dean: me too. what time do you work tues? do you want to come tues evening?**

**Cas: I'll come whenever you want me to, dean.**

Dean's eyes widened and he glanced at Charlie, feeling the blood rushing to his face. She was staring at the TV screen and didn't seem to notice the shocked expression on his face. He turned his eyes back to his phone. He had no clue what to say- he'd never been so shamelessly flirted with before. Finally he settled on-

**Dean: tuesday it is, then ;)**

He waited a few minutes, then texted him again.

**Dean: can i ask you something?**

**Cas: Sure.**

**Dean: is cas short for something?**

**Cas: Yes.**

**Dean: oh. what?**

**Cas: Guess :)**

**Dean: ...casper?**

**Cas: Lol. No. Try again.**

He glanced over at Charlie. "He said it's not short for Casper."

"Oh. Well what's it short for then?" she asked, her eyes glued to the television.

Dean frowned. "He's making me guess."

Charlie laughed. "I like this guy."

"Well are you going to help me guess?" Dean asked impatiently.

She glanced at him briefly and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. "Use google, dumbass."

Dean brushed the piece of popcorn away from where it had landed on his lap, and Floyd, who had been watching from his bed, quickly appeared and gobbled it up. Dean googled the name Cas, and then texted Cas back.

**Dean: Casey?**

**Cas: Nope.**

**Dean: Caspian?**

**Cas: You're using google, aren't you?**

Crap. Busted.

**Dean: yes. i'm a cheat, i know**

**Cas: It's alright. You never would've guessed. I guess i'm just cruel like that for making you try.**

**Cas: It's Castiel. And before you try to butcher it, it's pronounced cas-tee-ell.**

"He said it's Castiel."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, then nodded and turned back to the TV.

**Dean: you're right, i never would've guessed that. i like it though**

**Cas: Thank you, dean.**

**Cas: And my last name is novak in case you want to internet stalk me.**

**Dean: i wasn't planning on it, but now that you mention it...**

**Dean: kidding. i'd rather get to know the real you, not your internet persona**

**Cas: Internet persona, huh?**

**Dean: yeah, you know. everyone has one. the person they present themselves to be online**

He would know. He spent a lot of time online as a young adult when he was practically housebound, making friends in far away places that he would never have to meet. He still talked to a few of them on occasion, but mostly they were just Facebook friends now.

**Cas: I'm impressed.**

**Dean: thank you? lol**

**Cas: You're welcome. How is floyd?**

**Dean: sleeping. he's an old man, so our walks tire him out for most of the day.**

**Cas: How old is he?**

**Dean: 10**

**Dean: do you have any pets?**

**Cas: Just a rat. That's all my parents will let me have.**

**Dean: damn, im sorry. do you plan on moving out any time soon?**

**Cas: Unfortunately, no. It's too damn expensive on my pay, and i don't have any skills to get a better job. I'm kind of a loser lmao.**

**Dean: you're not a loser. you just need to find something you're good at.**

**Cas: I guess so.**

Dean started to feel bad for asking, so he tried to somewhat change the subject.

**Dean: i sent you a picture of floyd... send me a picture of your rat**

**Cas: Okay, hold on.**

Dean waited patiently, until another text came through.

**Cas: Dammit, he won't hold still. I need to bribe him with food.**

Dean waited a few more minutes, and finally a photo came through. Cas was holding the phone high in front of him, presumably holding food between his fingers, and looking up at the camera. Atop his head, nestled in the mess of hair, was a gray hooded fancy rat. He was leaning forward, looking right at the camera, and he looked about two seconds from sliding forward and tumbling off of Cas' head.

A smile instantly spread across Dean's face as he took in the photo. Cas' mouth was twisted into a small nervous smile, but his eyes were big and bright.

**Dean: adorable**

**Dean: and your rat is, too**

**Cas: Quite the charmer, you are :) Thank you. His name is roger.**

**Dean: like roger waters?**

**Cas: You got it.**

**Dean: you have great taste, cas**

**Cas: Thank you, dean. Sucks you can't meet him.**

**Dean: why can't i?**

**Cas: My parents are always here... they don't really like when i have people over.**

**Dean: that really sucks :\ i'm sorry**

**Cas: It's okay. I'm used to it. I just try to get out as much as possible.**

Dean noticed he was still typing, so he refrained from responding until Cas was done.

**Cas: By the way, i'm sorry i kind of rushed out of the car last night. My parents don't really approve of my sexuality, so... i just didn't want to have to rebuff you. I told them i was just going out with a friend, but i would bet $100 my mom was watching through the damn window.**

Dean frowned down at his phone. That would explain why Cas didn't kiss him, even though it certainly looked like he wanted to.

**Dean: it's okay. don't worry about it. i'm really sorry you have to live like that though**

**Cas: I'm used to it. I'm going to let you get back to your movie though.**

Dean glanced up at the TV to see that the movie was already half-way over.

**Dean: okay. i'll text you later when Charlie leaves**

**Dean: if you want**

**Cas: Okay :)**

Dean turned to Charlie, who was tossing pieces of popcorn into her mouth and watching the movie. "I got a picture."

She turned to him with a grin. "Yes! That's what I'm talkin' about. Lemme see."

He scrolled back in their conversation to the photo and clicked on it so that it filled the screen. He held the phone out to her, and the looked at the screen before moving her eyes to his face and smiling.

"He's cute."

Dean felt his face flushing. "He is, isn't he?"

"If I wasn't gay I'd be jealous."

Dean chuckled, glancing at the picture one more time before pressing the button to shut down the screen and setting his phone down on the coffee table to finish watching the movie.

* * *

Tuesday dragged on at work. Cas was coming over after he got out of work at six, after a quick run home to feed Roger and change his clothes. Dean had never been this excited about hanging out with someone he liked before. He rushed home after he got out of work at five and took Floyd for a quick walk (which still ended up being forty-five minutes), then hopped in the shower to wash off the grease from the shop.

When he stepped out, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He turned to face it, running his fingers over the chest scars again. His hand fell to the one running horizontally along his waist, right above his pubic area. It had also faded white with age, but under the bright bathroom lights, it was clearly visible. It ran over his hips and all the way across his lower back, like he'd been cut in half. He hated it, but he reminded himself that it was a fair trade for what he looked like before.

His body still wasn't perfect though. He could still grab the skin on his lower stomach between his fingers and pull it out a bit, but it wasn't noticeable at all unless he was literally on all fours and gravity was taking over. Even then, it looked nothing like it did before the skin removal surgery. He shuddered just thinking about it. It was awful, and he'd been so disgusted, that he'd wondered why he'd even bothered losing all the weight in the first place, only to be left with a body he was still ashamed of.

He just hoped that if they ever got that far, Cas wouldn't care.

* * *

There was a knock on the door at seven. Floyd jumped up and started barking, but Dean shushed him and told him to go lay down. He skulked off to his bed, but watched the door closely as Dean opened it.

Cas was standing on the doorstep, holding a box of pizza with a two-liter of Coke perched on top.

"Hey," he greeted. "I brought a pizza."

"Oh," Dean said in surprise. "You didn't have to do that. I could've cooked something."

Cas shrugged lightly so as not to disturb the liter of soda. "You bought dinner last time."

"You've got me there." Dean reached out and took the soda, then stepped back so Cas could enter the house. As Cas brushed past, he got a whiff of smoke, and... something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. When Floyd smelled the pizza, he jumped up from his bed and flew to the door, sniffing at the box in Cas' hands.

"Well, hello there," Cas said, looking down at the dog. He balanced the edge of the box against his stomach with one hand and reached down to pet Floyd with the other.

"Pizza crust is his favorite," Dean said, closing the front door behind Cas. "You can get comfortable on the couch, if you want. Just put the box on the coffee table. I'll get plates and cups."

Cas nodded and looked around, spotting the couch on the left. He made his way over and set the pizza box down on the coffee table, then plopped down on the couch and resumed petting Floyd.

As Dean rounded the corner of the couch, he handed Cas a plate and glass. He sat down on the center of the couch, so he wasn't too far from Cas, but he wasn't crowding him, either.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I just got plain," Cas said as he poured himself a glass of soda.

"Plain's fine. I can't really eat a lot of greasy food anyway, so I'll probably only have one slice."

Cas turned his head to cock one eyebrow at him. "You're seriously going to leave me with the rest of this?" he asked, nodding towards the pizza box. He brought his glass to his lips and took a large gulp of Coke.

Dean blinked. "...Leftovers?"

Cas snorted a laugh, almost dribbling Coke all over himself. "That's not gonna happen. Shit. Sorry," he said quickly, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "I'm a fuckin' mess right now."

Dean offered him a reassuring smile. It was actually pretty fucking adorable. "Long day at work?"

"Yeah... but I'm also really fucking stoned," he said, reaching forward and popping open the top to the pizza box.

Dean's eyes widened. So that was what he smelled when Cas walked in the door- weed. "You smoke?"

"Yeah," Cas said, leaning back with a slice of pizza on his plate. "Do you?" He folded the slice in half and took a large bite off the end.

"Occasionally," Dean answered. "It's been a long time."

Cas swallowed what was in his mouth and his tongue came out to lick a bit of grease from the corner of his mouth. "Do you want to? I have more."

Dean thought about it for a moment. The only reason he didn't smoke often was because it made him lazy and gave him the munchies, but the idea of getting stoned and eating pizza with Cas sounded amazing. "Sure," he said with a smile.

Cas grinned and put his plate down on top of the pizza box. "Awesome. Be right back." He stood up, grabbed his keys, and within ten seconds he was gone, the front door closing behind him. He returned not two minutes later, dropping his keys onto the table and himself back down onto the couch. In his hand was a ziploc bag, with what was probably three grams of weed inside, and a glass pipe. He set the pipe down on his lap and popped open the bag, pulling out a small nug. He tossed the bag onto the table and broke the nug up between his fingers, dropping the small pieces into the bowl. When he was finished, he leaned back and fished a lighter out of the pocket of his jeans, then held both of the items out to Dean.

"You can have greens."

"Thank you," Dean said, taking the pipe and lighter. He brought the pipe up to his lips, placed his thumb over the carburetor, and flicked the lighter. Touching the flame to the herb, he took a long pull, moving his thumb off the carb half-way through and clearing the smoke out of the pipe. He pulled the pipe away and held his breath for a good thirty seconds before exhaling a large cloud of smoke across the room. A few small coughs forced their way from his lungs, but he took a gulp of his water and they stopped.

"Here," he said, his voice strained, as he held the bowl out to Cas.

Cas shook his head, nearly finished with his first slice of pizza. "Smoke. I'm stoned already. I'll hit the next one." He paused, reaching into the box for a second slice. "And hurry up, pizza's gettin' cold."

Dean nodded and hit the bowl again. It had been a long time since he smoked, over a year, and he had to take a few minutes between each hit so that he didn't have a coughing fit. By the time there was only one hit left, he was definitely feeling it, and Cas was finishing his third slice. He took the last hit and set it on the table, leaning back into the couch and blowing the hit out across the room.

"Here," Cas said, grabbing Dean's plate and placing a slice of pizza on it.

Dean took it gratefully and dug in, and before he knew it he was down to the crust. "Holy shit, that was good," he breathed. He looked over to Cas, who was working on his fourth slice, Floyd sitting to his side and staring at him intently. "Floyd."

Floyd's head snapped in his direction and Dean tossed his crust across the table. Floyd jumped up to catch it, then lowered his head to the floor and began eating.

Cas let out a low chuckle as he watched Floyd gulp down the bread. "Sorry buddy, but _I_ eat my crust." He leaned forward a bit to deposit his empty plate on top of the pizza box, then leaned back and wiped his fingers on his pants. When he was satisfied they were free of grease, he moved the hand to his stomach and let out a long sigh.

Dean must've been zoning out staring at him, because suddenly Cas was opening one eye and smirking at him. "Wanna pack another one?"

Dean blinked. "Uh... yeah." He reached out for the bag and pipe and began packing another bowl. He passed it to Cas, who took a large hit, holding it in far longer than Dean had before exhaling slowly.

Dean had to admit it was hot as hell watching the thick white smoke leave his lips. As Cas took a second hit, he looked around the room. "...Weren't we supposed to be doing something?"

Cas grinned at him. "Watching Harry Potter?" he supplied, his voice strained as he held in another hit.

"Oh, right," Dean said slowly.

"We can watch something else if you want," Cas offered, blowing the smoke across the couch and into Dean's space. "I don't care."

Dean nodded and reached for the remote. He hit the power button and the TV turned on to the news. He put on the guide and began scrolling through.

"Wait, put that on," Cas said, indicating Half Baked on comedy central. "Seems appropriate."

"Okay."

They watched in silence for a little while, passing the bowl back and forth and snickering at the movie. About twenty minutes later, during a commercial break, Cas sat up to open the pizza box again.

"Do you want me to heat that up for you?" Dean asked.

Cas shook his head. "No thanks. Sure you don't want another slice?"

Dean pondered it for a minute. He was extremely high, and he definitely could make room for another slice, although that was certainly going to be his limit. "Yeah, I'll take another one. I'm heating it up though, cold pizza is gross." He grabbed a slice and tossed it onto his plate, standing up.

"That's where you're wrong, my friend," Cas mumbled, biting into his slice.

Dean shook his head in amusement as he made his way towards the microwave. He expected Floyd to follow, but as he leaned against the counter and waited for his pizza, he noticed Floyd was still at Cas' side.

"He seems pretty sure you're going to share," Dean called across the room.

Cas laughed. "Better luck next time, buddy," he mumbled around a mouthful of pizza.

When Dean returned to the couch, Cas was picking up the last slice. Dean set his down and took the box, walking into the kitchen and to the garbage can. He dumped the crumbs into the can and broke down the box, tucking it between the fridge and counter with the rest of the cardboard. When he came back, Cas was taking large gulps of his second glass of soda.

The movie resumed on the TV, and Dean turned his attention to that, eating his second slice slowly.

There was a heavy sigh next to him. "Dude, I'm sorry, I'm like a black hole when I'm stoned."

Dean turned his head to look at him, blinking in confusion. "...What?"

Cas gestured towards the half-eaten pizza in his hand, the last of the six remaining slices after Dean had eaten his two.

Dean shrugged. "You bought it, man, eat as much as you want."

Cas looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he finished his slice in silence and took another swig of soda. Then he stood up, wiping his fingers on his jeans again. "I'm going to go outside and have a cigarette."

"You smoke?"

Cas nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "Yeah. You didn't smell it on me?"

Dean stared at him for a moment. "Kind of, when you got here, but not on Saturday."

"Oh, my parents don't let me smoke in the house," he explained, "and I'd just showered and put on clean clothes before you picked me up."

Dean nodded. "Okay."

Cas stood there awkwardly for a moment, looking around the room. "That's not, like... a deal-breaker, is it?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What? No."

Cas nodded, looking down. "Just checking. I'll be right back." He turned towards the front door.

"You can go out back," Dean suggested. "There are chairs." He stood up and walked Cas over to the back door. "To the left."

"Thanks," Cas said softly, slipping out the door.

He pulled his pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket and dropped down into one of the chairs. They were metal, made for the outdoors, but there were cushions on them, and they were actually pretty comfortable. He brought a cigarette to his lips and lit it, then took a long drag. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, bringing his hand to his stomach and digging the heel of his palm in.

He was a little too high, and a little too full. He definitely needed a cigarette to bring him down and settle his stomach. He rubbed his hand across the upper curve of his stomach, really hoping Dean wasn't peering out the window. He knew he probably wasn't, but a lifetime of living with his nosy mom always had his paranoia on edge. And she always had something nasty to say about his eating habits- like he gave a shit.

As the cigarette burned down towards the filter, he took one last drag off of it and looked around for somewhere to put it out. He was surprised to find a ceramic ashtray on the table. He snuffed it out and stood up, sighing a little as the contents of his stomach settled.

When he went back inside, Dean was on the couch, one arm up over the back of it and sipping on his glass of water. He noticed their plates were gone and Dean had his socked feet up on the table.

"Hit the light," Dean said. "By the front door."

Cas turned off the light, and the room was basked in just the glow of the television. "Why do you have an ashtray?" he asked, making his way back to the couch.

Dean tilted his head back and blinked at him. "For when my friend Benny comes over. He's a smoker."

Cas nodded and rounded the corner of the couch, sitting back down and leaning back into the cushions. He tilted his head back, and the hair on the back of his head brushed up against Dean's bare forearm, sending a jolt through him. He still hadn't gotten to touch Cas at all yet, and he didn't want to miss this opportunity. He waited until Cas lifted his head again to watch TV before figuring it was now or never. He dropped his arm a bit so that it was around Cas' shoulders.

Cas tensed momentarily, and Dean felt his throat go dry.

_Please don't let him freak out._

Cas shifted, and Dean was just about to pull his arm away when Cas leaned into him.

Dean's heart kicked up in his chest, and he just hoped Cas couldn't feel it, because he could feel it throughout his entire body. He wanted to blame the weed, but he knew it had nothing to do with that, and everything to do with Cas' body pressed up against his own.

"Thanks for inviting me over," Cas murmured.

"Any time, Cas," Dean replied, and he just hoped Cas didn't notice the hoarseness in his voice.

They sat like that for a few minutes as Dean willed his heart to stop pounding. Cas was warm and smelled like smoke, with a underlying hint of clean laundry. He looked down at the top of Cas' head, searching his brain for something to say. Of course his brain picked the dumbest thing- "You didn't brush your hair today."

Cas tilted his head to squint up at Dean. "What?"

Dean's face flushed. "Um- I just- I meant, on Saturday, you brushed it. I... like it better... when it's messy," he stammered, his eyes flicking between Cas' hair and his eyes.

Cas smiled shyly. "Thank you," he said softly.

Dean stared at him a moment longer, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "C- can I..." He trailed off, because as he spoke, Cas' smile grew wider, reaching his eyes. He took that as permission and dipped down, closing his eyes and capturing Cas' lips in his own.

His lips were warm and dry, and fuck, it just felt so _right_. Cas lifted his left arm to place a hand on Dean's chest, leaning up into the kiss. They parted for a moment, barely an inch apart, and then Cas' mouth was on his again.

Dean parted his lips and Cas darted his tongue in, and he tasted like Coke and pizza and cigarettes. They made out for a few minutes, and as the kiss got more heated, Cas grabbed at Dean's chest through his flannel. Dean groaned into the kiss, as his dick stirred to life in his pants.

Cas broke the kiss and twisted so that he was facing Dean more. He leaned in to kiss him again, and as he did so, his hand traveled down Dean's chest, down his stomach, and to the buckle of his belt. Dean tensed, and Cas must have felt it in the kiss, because he recoiled his hand and pulled away.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "Too fast?"

"Um..." Dean gulped and took a breath. "For me. Yeah. But, uh..." He leaned forward, so he was speaking right in Cas' ear. "I'd love to swallow you down."

Cas pulled away and his eyes widened, and then he nodded.

Dean gave him a cocky grin. "Good. Lay back."

Cas turned and scooted back so that he was leaning back into the corner of the couch. Dean took a deep breath, pushing down his nervousness, and pushed himself up, turning and settling down on his knees. He crawled forward and leaned down to kiss Cas again, reaching between them to unbuckle Cas' belt. He had his pants unfastened quickly, and Cas lifted his hips a bit so Dean could slide them, along with his boxer briefs, down around his thighs.

Cas groaned into the kiss as his cock sprung free, and Dean took him in his hand, giving a slow, gentle tug. Cas' hips twitched and he groaned again.

Dean broke the kiss and Cas let his head fall back, eyes closed. Dean crawled back and looked down at Cas' length in his hand, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips. He ducked his head down and ran his flattened tongue along the underside of the head and over the slit, eliciting a stuttered sigh from Cas. He wrapped his lips around the head, suckling lightly as his fingers gently worked the base.

Dean pulled back up to the tip, pushing out a good amount of saliva, and then sliding back down as far as he could go. Cas gasped above him. Dean lifted his eyes as he slowly bobbed up and down, and Cas was staring down at him. Then a large hand was caressing his face for a brief moment, as Dean closed his eyes, before sliding around into the hair on the back of his head. When Cas' fingers twisted into the roots, pulling lightly as he groaned again, Dean couldn't help moaning onto his cock.

Cas sucked in a sharp breath, tightening his grip on Dean's hair. "Fuck," he murmured. "So good, Dean."

Dean enjoyed the praise, bringing his free hand forward to rest it on Cas' hip, sinking his fingers into the soft skin there. He pushed down a bit further until the head of Cas' cock hit the back of his throat. He stopped for a moment, swallowing down around him, and Cas tensed beneath him, pushing out a sharp breath.

"Holy shit," he breathed. "Almost."

Dean pulled back and sunk down again, all the way, swallowing again. He did this repeatedly, and he felt Cas' thighs quivering beneath him.

"Where... should I-"

Dean popped off. "Don't worry about it," he rasped, before quickly swallowing Cas down again.

Cas let out a little whine, and then he was pulsing in Dean's mouth, shooting his release down his throat and tugging on his hair. Dean swallowed again, massaging the base with his fingers, milking Cas for everything he had and swallowing it all.

Cas let out a long sigh, and Dean pulled off, his tongue coming out to lick a bit of saliva off of his lower lip. He lifted his eyes to see Cas staring down at him, lips parted and chest rising and falling slowly. Then Cas was using the hand buried in his hair to pull him up and forward, crushing their mouths together and darting his tongue inside.

When they broke apart, Cas pulled his shaking hand away, and Dean laid himself down on Cas' lap, nestling his head into the softness of Cas' stomach. Cas let his arm lay over Dean's shoulder, and Dean wrapped his arm around Cas' waist, listening to his slowing heartbeat.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas breathed. "I enjoyed that very much."

"Any time, Cas," Dean responded.

They laid on the couch for a little while, watching whatever had come on TV after Half Baked, until Cas let out a long yawn. "I'm tired," he said sleepily.

Dean curled the fingers of the hand that was resting on Cas' chest. "You can stay over, if you want."

Cas took a deep breath in through his nose. "I'd like that."

"I just have to take Floyd out first. But you can lay down now if you want."

Cas thought about it for a moment. "No, I'll come with you. I could use a cigarette."

"Okay." Dean pushed himself up and climbed off the couch. Cas lifted his hips and pulled his underwear and jeans back up. He worked on his fastenings and belt as Dean woke up Floyd.

"Come on, Floyd," he called. "Time for a walk."

Floyd jumped up from his bed and followed Dean to the front door, and as he leashed him up, Cas joined them at the door. They walked out into the night, down the walkway and onto the sidewalk. Cas lit a cigarette and took a long drag as Dean and Floyd began walking down the sidewalk.

"Oh, you actually walk him?" Cas asked, trailing behind them and puffing on his cigarette.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, watching Floyd sniff a fire hydrant.

Cas shrugged. "Some people just walk them out in the yard to potty then bring them back in."

Dean shook his head. "Nope. We usually walk for at least three hours a day total." He looked back to see Cas' eyes widen, and Dean grinned. "Don't worry, I'm not going to make you walk for an hour. It's late anyway. As soon as he's done we'll go back." He paused, observing Floyd lifting his leg on a telephone pole. "It's just good exercise for both of us."

"No, that's... that's good." Cas was quiet for a moment. "Y'know, I have to admit, when you said you had a dog, I was kind of nervous that, well... you'd be a _pet_ person versus a _dog_ person."

Dean looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. "What d'you mean?"

"Well," Cas said carefully, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette, "there are pet people and there are dog people. Pet people are the ones who see dogs as novelties or toys. Their dogs are usually overweight, or have overgrown nails and need a good grooming. They eat crap food and don't get any physical or mental stimulation." He took another drag off of his cigarette. "Then you have dog people, who understand that dogs have needs besides food and a bed. They feed good food, and train them, and keep them clean, healthy, and well-groomed."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "You learn all that at PetSmart?"

"Yes," Cas said sheepishly. "Mostly from personal observation. I have seen a _lot_ of dogs and owners come through that door. ...Tried to offer a lot of advice that's been rebuffed," he added quietly.

"You really like dogs, huh?" Dean asked as Floyd lifted his leg again on a bush.

Cas nodded. "Yeah."

Dean smiled, but then it fell into a frown. "I'm sorry your parents won't let you get one."

Cas shrugged. "I have Roger. But... rats only live three years or so. So it's hard getting attached," he said sadly.

"Have you ever thought of moving out with a roommate or something?" Dean asked, walking back towards Cas to start the walk home.

"Yeah," Cas answered, falling in step with Dean. "But what if it didn't work out? What if I lost my job? I can't go crawling back to my parents. That would be mortifying, and they'd never let me live it down." He tossed his cigarette butt into the street and pulled another one out of his pack. "And I'd have to re-home the dog."

"That's true." Dean walked a little slower to allow Cas to finish his cigarette, and they finished the walk in silence. When they arrived back at the house, Floyd got a quick drink as Dean hung up his leash.

"Do you want pajamas?" Dean asked, walking towards the hallway leading to the bedroom.

Cas grabbed his bag of weed from the table, shoving it into his pocket so Floyd wouldn't get into it, and followed Dean. "I don't care," he said. "I usually sleep naked," he admitted. "But I can sleep in my boxers and shirt... if that's okay."

"Yeah, I don't care," Dean said, disappearing into a door on the left and flicking on the light. Cas followed him in and Dean squatted down to rummage around underneath the sink. He came back up with a new toothbrush, handing the package to Cas.

"Thank you." They brushed their teeth and Dean left Cas alone so he could pee.

"Bedroom's across the hall," he said on his way out.

Cas nodded as he closed the door. When he was done, he washed his hands and crossed the hallway into the bedroom. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed in a plain white t-shirt and boxers, bending down to remove his socks. The room was illuminated only by a lamp on Dean's night stand. He looked up when Cas entered, offering him a reassuring smile. "Be right back." Cas nodded and Dean walked past him and disappeared into the bathroom to relieve himself.

Cas walked around to the other side of the bed, furthest from the door. He unfastened his pants and let them drop to the floor, stepping out of them. He turned and sat down and pulled off his socks, leaving them on top of his jeans. He felt the mattress dip and turned his head to see Dean climbing underneath the blanket.

Cas stood up and pulled his side of the blanket back, lowering himself onto the mattress gently so as not to jostle it too much. He scooted down and pulled the blanket up over himself. Dean reached over and clicked off the light, and the room was shrouded in darkness.

Dean felt Cas' arm moving, and then fingers were wriggling between his own. Dean scooted over a bit, so their hands were pressed between their thighs. Suddenly something was tickling his chin, and he realized Cas was leaning his head on his shoulder, his hair brushing up against his jaw. He tilted his neck so that his head was resting on top of Cas'.

They laid like that for a minute, until Cas lifted his head and hesitantly pressed their lips together. Dean kissed him back, and when they broke apart a minute later, Dean asked softly, "Still tired?"

"Not really," Cas answered.

Dean grinned, unlacing their fingers and rolling over onto his side to face Cas. Cas did the same, and Dean brought his other hand up to place it on Cas' neck, pulling him into him and kissing him again. He felt himself immediately hardening in his boxers, reminding him that he'd never gotten off after sucking Cas off on the couch.

But Cas didn't waste any time, because soon a warm hand was on Dean's waist, pulling him closer and slotting their hips together. Dean felt Cas' hard length press up alongside his own, and he groaned into their kiss, rolling his hips slightly.

Cas groaned back, so Dean moved his hand from his neck to his shoulder, pushing him onto his back. He pushed himself up and swung one leg up and over Cas' thighs.

"Ooo," Cas chuckled. "I like where this is going."

Dean couldn't help it. He was a lot more confident with the lights off. He planted his hands on the mattress on either side of Cas and rolled his hips down into Cas, pulling a low moan out of him. He leaned down and sealed their lips together, kissing him roughly as Cas pushed his hips up into him.

"Fuck... yes..." Dean groaned when they broke apart. But as much as rutting up against each other through their underwear felt amazing, he wanted more. He reached between them and tucked two fingers into the waistband of Cas' boxer briefs. "Can I take these off?" he asked.

"Yeah." Cas lifted his hips and Dean slid his fingers back and forth across the waistband, shimmying them down as he kept himself propped up with his other hand. Cas groaned as Dean's fingers brushed over the head of his dick as he did so. "Can I take yours off?"

"Yes."

Cas' hands came up to quickly yank Dean's boxers down around his thighs, and Dean lowered himself again, pressing himself up against Cas' hot length. He shuddered out a sigh, rolling his hips forward into Cas.

Dean spit into his hand and reached between them, taking them both in his fist and tugging slowly. He dipped his head down again to lock their lips, rolling their tongues together as he picked up the pace.

He broke the kiss to bury his face in Cas' neck, huffing out a breath. Cas shuddered beneath him, reaching up to grasp at Dean's shirt. For a moment Dean was afraid he would pull it off, but he didn't, only clutched it in his fists.

Dean dragged his thumb over the heads, smearing the precome around as Cas bucked up into his fist. "God, Cas," he hissed into his shoulder, "So fucking good."

"I know," Cas groaned. "I know."

Maybe Dean was being too eager, but he'd only been with three people in his entire life- one female, two males. The female, Lisa, had been a long-term relationship, but it hadn't worked out, for reasons he still wasn't one-hundred-percent sure of. The other male was Benny, who he occasionally fooled around with as a friends-with-benefits deal. The other male had been a one-night stand. Dean had gone out drinking for the first time after his surgery- two years later, as he was advised not to drink after surgery- and he'd gotten drunk way faster than he expected. Liquid courage coursing through his veins, he'd met a guy and topped him in the back seat of the Impala in the parking lot. He hadn't even gotten the guys number, and he'd taken a cab home.

This was so much better. He was clear-headed, and he _liked_ Cas, and it just felt more... intimate. Part of him thought maybe he was being stupid, but he pushed the thought away and focused on his impending orgasm.

Beneath him, Cas was pushing his hips up into him, his head turned. Dean could feel the heat of his breath on the back of his neck. He lifted his head and crushed their lips together again, and Cas took his lower lip between his teeth. Dean felt everything in him lock up, and Cas released his lip from between his teeth to clutch Dean's waist.

With one final thrust, Dean spilled between them, gritting his teeth and grunting into Cas' shoulder. Two more lazy thrusts, and Cas followed, coming over Dean's fist and between their stomachs, biting his own lower lip into his mouth.

Dean lowered his weight on top of him, panting slightly into his shoulder.

"That was... awesome," Cas breathed.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. Once he caught his breath, he pushed himself up. "I'll be right back with a washcloth."

Cas nodded, although he didn't think Dean could see it in the dark. "Okay."

He felt Dean throwing the blanket off of them and leaving the bed, and then he saw the bathroom light across the hall flick on. He heard the water running, and he propped himself up on his elbows, and then suddenly the night stand light was flicked on. Cas flinched, and Dean frowned, standing on the other side of the bed with a washcloth in his hand.

"Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah... I just... wasn't expecting that," Cas said slowly, lifting his arm to shield his eyes from the light. He didn't really want to admit that he was a bit self-conscious, his shirt ridden half-way up his belly and his softening dick lying limply between his legs. Dean had already seen him, though, so it was too late to do anything about it now.

"Sorry," Dean said softly. He must've cleaned himself up already, because his boxers were back up, and there was a damp spot on the bottom of his tee shirt where he'd probably wiped off any come. He kneeled on the bed and reached out with the washcloth, swiping it across Cas' lower stomach. He then reached out with his free hand to push his shirt up to where his chest met his stomach, bringing the washcloth higher, dipping it into his navel where a bit of come had pooled.

He glanced up to see Cas watching him with an unreadable expression, a dark blush coloring his cheeks.

"What's wrong?"

Cas looked away. "Nothing."

Dean was pretty sure he had an idea what this was about, so he didn't say anything. He only held the washcloth out, and Cas took it from him to wipe off his dick. When he handed it back, Dean tossed it across the room, and it landed in the laundry basket.

"Do you want a clean shirt?"

"Sure," Cas said quietly, pulling his underwear back up. He wasn't sure Dean would have one that fit, but the bottom of his shirt was soiled with come, so he didn't really have a choice.

Dean walked over to his dresser and pulled out an old, worn Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt. He crossed the room again and held it out to Cas. Cas took it and sat up all the way, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Dean laid back down, and Cas pulled his shirt off, dropping it to the floor and keeping his back to Dean.

"I'll wash your shirt tomorrow," Dean said quietly.

"Thank you." He pulled Dean's shirt over his head. It fit well, except for around his midsection, where it didn't completely cover the lower curve of his stomach. He pulled it down, but it wouldn't stay. He sighed, hoping it would fit better when he laid back.

Behind him, Dean clicked off the light, and Cas was thankful for that. He got back under the blanket, lying on his back and staring up into the dark. Dean shifted next to him, and then an arm was wrapping around his waist.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean said softly.

"Yeah?"

Dean was quiet for a moment, and then he tightened the arm around Cas' waist. "I like your body."

"...You do?"

Dean buried his face in Cas' shoulder. "Yes."

Cas leaned his head into Dean. "Thank you, Dean."

"You're welcome," Dean said, sleepiness becoming apparent in his voice. "G'night."

"Good night."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit... so I know it's been a month and a half, and I'm so sorry that this took forever! When I first uploaded chapter 1, I had most of the rest written out already. But, I got a better response than I was expecting, so I decided to add some stuff in- make it a little longer. So chapter 2 has been split into two, and more scenes have been added, which is why this took me so long to upload. I also don't use a beta, so it's all up to me to check for errors and make sure everything sounds right, lol. So if you notice anything off, don't hesitate to let me know! Anyway I hope you guys like it... There's a bit more angst in this chapter as we see more of what goes on between Cas and his mom (remember the Naomi being a dick tag?), and... well, I won't spoil the cliffhanger. Your comments give me life, so if you like it, please let me know! :3 (ConCrit also welcomed <3)  
> P.S. - This fic takes place in 2017. I know Fantastic Beasts came out last year, but in this story it comes out in 2017 for the purpose of convenience. lol.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at casorderspizza (how appropriate for this story... lol)

Cas awoke the next morning to rough paw pads kicking at his shin. As he regained consciousness, he realized it was Floyd shifting in his sleep. At some point during the night he'd wormed his way beneath the blanket at the foot of the bed. Cas turned his head, and Dean was passed out next to him, mouth open as he snored and arm tucked behind his head.

Cas took the time to study his features, as he'd been too nervous on their first date, and too stoned the night before, before they turned the lights off to watch TV. His cheeks and across the bridge of his nose were dusted with freckles, and his teeth, visible as his mouth hung open, were pearly white and perfectly straight.

Then he noticed a scar along the underside of Dean's arm. It was thin and white, faded with age, and only really visible because of the sun pouring in through the window behind Cas. It ran almost from his elbow, all the way down the length of the underside of his upper arm, disappearing beneath the sleeve of his shirt towards his armpit.

Cas stared at it for a moment, wondering what it was from. He'd never seen a scar like that before. But he had to look away before he could think too much about it, because Dean licked his lips and and blinked his eyes open.

Green eyes stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then they rolled over to settle on Cas. "Mornin'," Dean said, his voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning."

Dean gave him a sleepy smile. "When'd you wake up?"

"Mm...maybe two minutes ago," Cas responded, bringing one hand up from beneath the covers to rub his eye. He briefly wondered if Dean would kiss him good morning, but he figured maybe it was too early for that. He knew _he_ was too nervous to initiate one with Dean so early on, after only one night together, so maybe Dean felt the same.

Dean gave a small nod and closed his eyes again. "What time is it?"

"I'm not sure," Cas replied. He rolled over and reached down to the floor, pulling his cell phone, which was nearly dead, from the pocket of his jeans. "Quarter to ten."

Dean nodded and sighed, lying still for a moment before opening his eyes and throwing the covers off. "I'm gonna put your shirt in the wash and start on breakfast."

Okay. So definitely no good morning kiss. "Okay. Thank you."

"No problem." Dean slowly stood up, stretching his arms above his head and forcing out a little groan. He then walked around the bed and bent down to pick up Cas' shirt from the floor.

Once he left, Cas threw the blanket off, sat up, and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. He put his socks back on, then stood up and pulled on his jeans. He made another attempt to pull down the hem of Dean's shirt, hoping maybe all the pizza was the reason it didn't fit last night. It fit better, but it still wouldn't stay put, revealing a small sliver of his skin. He lowered his head and sighed dramatically. He didn't really get why Dean seemed to like him so much- the guy was fucking perfect, and he was just... Cas. While he knew there wasn't anything particularly _wrong_ with being overweight (despite what his mother said), he also knew that other people didn't exactly see it as desirable, either.

When he entered the kitchen, Dean had his back to him, cooking on the stove as Floyd munched on kibble from a bowl on the floor.

"Omelette okay?" Dean asked.

"Anything's fine," Cas said awkwardly. "Thank you. I'm just, um... going to go out for a cigarette first." He pointed weakly towards the back door, but Dean's back was turned.

"Mind takin' Floyd with you?"

"Do you want me to walk him?"

"Nah, thanks though. Just take him out back with you."

Cas hesitated. It had been too dark the night before to tell if the yard was fenced in or not, and he didn't want Floyd to run away. "...He won't run off?" he asked.

Dean chuckled, still not turning around. "Nope. We've walked this neighborhood millions of times. Nothin' he hasn't seen."

"...Okay," Cas said, still a little unsure. He really didn't want to be responsible if Floyd took off. He headed towards the door and Floyd left his now-empty bowl to follow him. When Cas opened the door, he pushed past him and picked up speed, and Cas' heart jumped into his throat.

But once he got off the patio and onto the grass, he slowed down and took a right, heading over to a bush and lifting his leg. Cas smiled, relieved, and walked over to the chairs, plopping down on one and lighting a cigarette. He tugged the shirt down again- still to no avail, but it was just habit to try. He told himself he had to stop, though, or he was going to stretch out Dean's shirt.

He watched Floyd wander around for a while, lifting his leg in a few spots and then finally pooping in the far corner of the yard. Cas was just finishing his cigarette when Floyd began walking back, so he snuffed it out in the ashtray and stood up. Forgetting he'd just scolded himself moments earlier, he tugged the shirt down again and walked back to the backdoor, letting himself and Floyd back inside.

Dean was seated at the table, fiddling with his phone. Two plates and two cups of coffee were set out, and there was a half gallon of milk and a stick of butter in the center.

"He did all of his business," Cas said, taking a seat across the table and glancing down at his plate. Dean had made him what looked like a three egg omelette, and a piece of toast.

Dean set his phone down next to his plate and looked up. "Awesome. Thank you."

"No problem."

Dean waved his hand towards the center of the table, towards the milk and salt and pepper shakers. "I dunno how you like it. Do you need sugar?"

"I drink my coffee black, thank you, but, um..." Cas looked down at his plate. "Do you have ketchup?"

"Yep." Dean grabbed the milk and stood up, turning around and opening the refrigerator door. He put the milk back in and retrieved a bottle of ketchup, setting it down on the table as he sat back in his seat. "Please don't tell me you put that on mac and cheese, too."

Cas crinkled his nose as he shook a generous amount of salt onto his eggs. "Hell no."

"Good," Dean said, picking up his fork, "'Cause that's just gross."

Cas put the salt shaker back and picked up the bottle of ketchup. He squirted a little bit onto his omelette, then snapped the cap closed again and set it down. "...Why is yours, like, gray?" he asked cautiously, eyeing Dean's plate. Dean's was smaller than his, probably consisting of one egg, and was a weird, off-white color.

"'Cause it's only the whites of the egg."

Cas nodded, reaching forward to grab the knife and butter his toast. He took a bite and as he chewed, he squinted at Dean across the table. "So, are you, like, a health nut or something?"

Dean snorted a laugh and shook his head. "No. But the small shit adds up."

Cas didn't say anything, instead cutting a piece off the omelette with his fork and bringing it to his mouth. "This is really good," he mumbled.

"Thank you."

"My mom's cooking fucking sucks," he said, once he'd swallowed and washed it down with a swig of coffee. "And if I try to make my own food, she bitches at me about not eating hers."

"My mom's a great cook," Dean said. " _Too_ good."

Cas tilted his head in confusion. "Too good?"

"Yep. Couldn't stop eating her cooking." _Understatement of the year._ "Especially her pies. Holy shit." His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let out an exaggerated moan.

Cas chuckled and dropped his eyes back down to his plate. "I prefer cake, myself-" He glanced up to see Dean holding his hand to his chest and feigning offence. "...But pie's good too."

"Damn right pie is good," Dean said, pointing his fork at Cas.

They finished their food in silence. Once Dean took his last bite, he stood up, leaning forward and taking Cas' plate and dropping them both into the sink.

"I'm gonna go throw your shirt in the dryer."

Cas was getting a little worried. Dean seemed kind of quiet so far and in quite the hurry to get his shirt washed, and he hoped it wasn't because Dean wanted him to leave. He really liked Dean, and he didn't want to go home yet. As he sat alone in the kitchen, he realized that maybe Dean had just noticed that his shirt didn't fit Cas that well. ...How embarrassing.

When Dean came back, he went straight to the sink and started washing the dishes. "So, d'you, like, want to do something today, or...?"

"Sure," Cas responded from the table, trying not to sound overeager. He was relieved that Dean didn't want to get rid of him, and he was very happy that he wanted to spend more time together. He reached down into his pocket for his bag of weed.

Dean glanced over his shoulder. "Like what?"

_As long as I'm hanging out with you, I don't even care_ , he wanted to say. Instead, he shrugged. "I don't care. Whatever."

Dean finished washing the dishes and set the last sink in the drain. He turned around and leaned back on the edge of the sink, watching as Cas rolled a joint on the table.

"Dude, it isn't even noon."

Cas glanced up and raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Dean's face broke into a grin. "You're a regular stoner, aren't you?"

Cas lifted the joint to his lips, licking along the length and sealing it. "Yep. Want some?"

Dean chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Sure."

* * *

_May_

In the last hour since their morning walk, Dean had spent it on the couch with Floyd, looking for something on TV. Nothing caught his attention, though, so he focused on rubbing Floyd's ears.

"Hey, why don't we go visit Cas at work, huh?"

Floyd lifted his head and turned big brown eyes on Dean.

"Get you a new toy. How's that sound?"

Floyd tilted his head.

"You want a new toy?" Dean asked enthusiastically.

Floyd jumped up into a standing position, staring Dean down, tail wagging excitedly. Dean chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes. Let's go." He stood up and Floyd jumped down from the couch to follow Dean to the door, where Dean leashed him up and they headed to the car.

When he pulled into the PetSmart parking lot, he parked on the far right, near where the employees parked, so he could walk Floyd in the strip of grass before going inside. Car rides always got him excited, which made him have to pee. After Floyd lifted his leg on a bush, they headed towards the building. As he turned and faced the store, he noticed a figure hunched over around the side of the building, and as he got closer, he realized it was Cas. He couldn't see his face, but he recognized his messy black hair.

Cas was sitting on the edge of a concrete slab, near the loading dock, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. A cigarette was tucked between the fingers of his left hand, and by the amount of ash accumulating on the tip, Dean figured it had been a few minutes since he'd taken a drag.

"Hey," he said when Cas didn't notice him approach.

Cas' head snapped up, the ash falling from his cigarette, and Dean noticed that his eyes were slightly red. But Cas mustered a smile anyway. "Hey."

"What's wrong?" Dean asked immediately.

Cas' smile faded and he sighed, looking away. "Nothing."

Dean moved to sit down next to him, as Floyd began sniffing his pant leg. "Come on, Cas, talk to me."

Cas pursed his lips, as if he was thinking about it, but then he shook his head. "It's nothing. Just... my mom said some pretty shitty things to me today. I don't usually let her get to me, but... today I wasn't very successful." He paused and took a deep breath. "But I'll be fine."

Dean frowned, watching Cas take a long drag on his cigarette. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Cas shook his head again. "Not really."

Dean nodded. If Cas didn't want to talk about it, he was going to respect that, but he hoped that Cas would open up to him eventually. "Okay." He watched as Cas tossed his cigarette butt to the ground and stomped on it. "Well, Floyd and I thought we would come visit you. He needs a new toy." He paused. "Are you on lunch?"

"No," Cas answered. "I'm on a ten. I don't get lunch for another few hours."

"Oh, that sucks. Next time I'll text you ahead of time and come on your lunch, if you want."

Cas smiled weakly. "That would be nice." He reached forward to pet Floyd, who had sat down on the ground between them. "Hello, Floyd. Are you excited to get a new toy?"

Floyd licked his fingers eagerly.

"I bet you taste the potato chips I was eating, don't you?" He pulled his hand away to wipe Floyd's drool off on his pants and pull his phone from his pocket. "I have to go back in," he said as he checked the time, "but I can walk around with you and pretend you're a customer."

Dean scoffed. "I _am_ a customer. And I'm going to need a _lot_ of assistance."

Cas smiled again, bigger this time. "Well, I can help you with that, _sir_ ," he said as he stood up.

Dean stood up as well, leaning forward and planting a kiss on his mouth, and Cas' eyebrows shot up in surprise before he leaned in and kissed him back. When Dean pulled away, Cas just stared into his eyes, a grin plastered on his face.

"Alright, c'mon," Dean said, tilting his head towards the building.

He followed Cas around to the front of the building and through the double doors, and Floyd immediately began to sniff everything. Before meeting Cas, Dean had always gone to PetCo because it was closer, so this was a new experience for Floyd. Cas led the way to the toy section, and Dean crouched down and pointed to the items on the shelves.

"Look, Floyd. _Toys_. Pick one out."

Floyd began sniffing the toys, his tail wagging slowly. He moved from one to the next until Dean reached out and squeezed one. It emitted a high-pitched squeak and Floyd's tail wagged faster.

"Do you like that one?"

Floyd nosed at it for a moment, but then he moved on to the next one. Finally, he grabbed the arm of a large blue dragon, giving it a gentle tug, so Dean pulled it off of the hook. "You want this one?" he asked. He gave it a shake, and Floyd jumped up to try and take it from him.

Dean checked the price tag and shook his head. "You just had to pick the one that's twenty dollars, didn't you?" He tossed it to Floyd, who jumped up to catch it mid-air.

Cas, who had been watching with a smile on his face, suddenly looked embarrassed. "I would offer to buy it when I get off with my discount, but my managers know that I don't have a dog."

Dean held his hand up in refusal. Cas didn't control the prices, so why would he act like it was his fault? "That's not what I was getting at, Cas. Besides, it's expensive because it's supposed to last longer than the other ones, right?"

Cas nodded. "Yes. It's quite well-constructed, although nothing is indestructible."

Dean looked down at Floyd, who was biting the dragon's belly to make it squeak. "Then it's worth it."

"Did you need anything else while you're here?" Cas asked.

Dean shook his head. "No. I guess I'll check out and let you get back to work."

Cas nodded, although he looked disappointed, and followed him to the front. There was only one register open, and a young guy about Cas' age was ringing out another customer.

"Have a nice day," he said, handing her her bag, and she thanked him and walked away. He turned to Cas. "Cas, can you take over so I can take lunch?"

"Of course."

The guy nodded to Dean and backed away from the register, and Cas slid in and took his place.

"Thanks, Cas!" he called as he headed off towards the back of the store.

"That's my friend Kevin," Cas explained, typing his employee ID into the register. "He's not even going to _eat_ ," he said, acting scandalized. "He's going to _study_."

"What's he in school for?" Dean asked, placing Floyd's toy on the counter.

"Medicine," Cas said distractedly, reaching over to grab the toy and scan it into the register.

"Jeez. Lotta schooling," Dean commented. "And expensive."

Cas nodded in agreement. "That's why he's still here. He got some scholarships, but not enough."

Dean paid for the toy and as Cas counted out his change, he mumbled distractedly, "Can he have a cookie?"

"Sure."

Cas handed him his change and reached into a container next to him on the counter. He held a dog treat out over the counter, and Floyd took it quickly, crunching it all over the floor and then vacuuming up the crumbs.

"What do you say, Floyd?" Dean joked, shoving his change and receipt into the pocket of his jeans.

Floyd smacked his lips and stared at Cas, hoping for another one.

"No," Dean chuckled. "No more. You have treats at home. Here." He held out the dragon, and Floyd took it into his mouth to carry to the car. He looked back up at Cas, who was smiling down at Floyd. "So I'll see you later."

Cas' eyes flicked up to meet his, and he smiled wider. "Thank you for coming to see me."

"Any time, Cas." He smiled back, and he really wanted to lean over the counter and kiss him, but he didn't want to get Cas in trouble with his manager, who he could see glancing at them from the office. He was glad he'd taken the opportunity to do so when they were outside. Instead, he laid his hand over Cas' on the counter. "Text me when you get off."

Cas nodded, and Dean turned and walked away, letting his hand slip slowly from his boyfriend's.

* * *

"I'm gonna take lunch, Bobby."

"Knock yerself out," Bobby grumbled from where he was bent over the engine of a truck.

Dean went into the break room and grabbed his bagged lunch from the fridge, sitting down at the table and pulling out his phone. It had gone off about an hour ago, but he'd been elbow deep in the inner workings of an El Camino and didn't want to get grease all over himself and his phone.

**Cas: Hey, how's work?**

He quickly texted him back before working on unwrapping his sandwich.

**Dean: good. taking lunch. what about you?**

**Cas: Boring. I just finished doing a dead run.**

**Dean: what the fuck is that?**

**Cas: Lol, I had to check all the fish tanks and remove any dead fish. Kind of sad, really.**

**Dean: I thought you were a cashier?**

**Cas: Someone in the fish dept called out today, so they needed the help.**

**Dean: well that sucks. guess you smell like fish now huh?**

**Cas: Well, we do have this thing called soap next to the sinks... :P**

**Dean: touche**

He set his phone down next to him on the table and took a bite of his sandwich, watching the three dots indicating Cas was typing.

**Cas: So my friend Gabe is having a party on Saturday night for my birthday. Would you like to come?**

**Dean: sure. i'd like to meet your friends**

**Cas: Awesome**

**Dean: what time? do you want to do something beforehand?**

**Cas: I have to work until 9 :( So I figured we could go straight there.**

**Dean: that sucks. but okay. want me to pick you up at work?**

**Cas: Sure**

Saturday night, Dean was in the PetSmart parking lot at nine o'clock sharp, playing a game on his phone as he waited. Cas exited the building at ten after, with a few other coworkers, who immediately walked off towards their respective cars. He watched Cas step off the curb, then stop, hunching forward to block the flame of his lighter from the wind as he lit a cigarette. Then he started walking again, giving Dean a wide smile as he approached the car.

"Hey," he said as he opened the passenger door. He'd already changed into a regular tee shirt, and he reached in to throw his blue work shirt into the backseat.

"Hey," Dean greeted. "How was work?"

Cas shrugged, still standing outside of the car. "Work." He brought his cigarette to his lips and took a long drag.

Dean watched him for a moment before asking, "Are you gonna get in?"

Cas straightened up. "I'm finishing my cigarette."

"I told you you could smoke in the car."

Cas bent down again to peer into the car. "You say that, but I feel like you would really prefer if I didn't."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Just get in the car."

Cas smiled and lowered himself into the seat, closing the door behind him and rolling down the window to hang his arm out of it. He'd barely turned his head before Dean was on him, grabbing his face and planting a kiss on his mouth.

Cas hummed in surprise when Dean pulled away. "Well hello to you, too."

"Happy birthday," Dean said.

"Thank you," Cas replied, smiling wider.

Dean glanced around the parking lot. The last employee was rounding the corner, and the lot was now dark and deserted. "Can I give you part of your present now?"

"If you'd like."

Dean turned to face him again, bringing his hand back up to caress his face. He kissed him again, more insistently this time, and when Cas opened his mouth, he pushed his tongue inside. As he licked his way into his mouth, he moved his hand down his neck, sliding it down his chest and coming to a stop at his waist. He fumbled Cas' belt buckle open, then thumbed at the denim around the button before giving it a firm yank to pop it open.

Cas shifted a bit, sliding his hips forward in the seat to give Dean better access. Dean yanked the zipper down and quickly reached into Cas' underwear, grabbing his dick and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Cas let his head drop back as Dean pulled away, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he hardened in his hand.

Dean leaned down. "Keep an eye out."

Cas lifted his head and had to force his eyes to stay open as Dean took him in his mouth, gently massaging the base with his fingers as he sucked on the head. "Jesus," Cas murmured, flicking the accumulating ash off of his cigarette before bringing it to his lips for another drag.

Dean slowly bobbed up and down, swirling his tongue along the shaft and drawing a moan out of Cas. Eventually Cas placed his free hand on the back of Dean's neck, thumbing the short hair there as his other fingers pressed into the side of Dean's neck.

Dean groaned onto his cock, a low sound that he knew Cas would feel, and Cas responded with a deep sigh, sliding his hand up onto the back of Dean's head. Dean registered Cas gently pushing on the back of his skull as he lifted his hips up, and it took Dean all of two seconds to realize Cas wanted to fuck his face.

So he relaxed his jaw, moved his hand away, and let Cas take over. He must've discarded his cigarette at some point, because his right hand came back into the car, settling on the back of Dean's head, next to the other one. He threaded his fingers through Dean's hair and pushed his head down, not too hard, and when Dean didn't resist, he kept going. He yanked his head down again and again, thrusting his hips up to meet him, and Dean could feel the tears pricking at his eyes as Cas rammed himself down his throat.

Then Cas was coming, fingers tightening in Dean's hair as he came down his throat. He held Dean's head in place as he shallowly thrust twice more into his mouth, his groan sounding unusually loud in the empty parking lot. When he was finished, he let his head fall back, taking a few deep breaths.

Dean pulled off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and leaned up to plant a kiss on the side of Cas' exposed neck. He observed the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smile, and he kissed him there, too, before placing one in the center of his mouth as well, which Cas reciprocated.

"Thank you," Cas breathed when Dean pulled away.

"You're very welcome," Dean said, sporting a cocky grin. After quickly wiping his eyes with his palms, he turned in his seat to reach for the keys in the ignition as Cas tucked himself back into his pants. "So, tell me how to get there."

It was a twenty minute drive up into the mountains to Gabe's house. Some of the roads were narrow and some wide, but they all wound around sharp curves and alongside cliffs, and Dean had to brake for deer more than once.

"Wow, he's really out here, huh?" Dean commented.

"Yes," Cas agreed, watching trees whiz by the window. "I should also probably warn you that Gabe can be a bit..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Obnoxious. But he's nice."

Dean let out a little laugh. "Okay."

"He also _really_ likes to party. There will be people here that I don't even know."

Dean glanced at him quickly before returning his eyes to the road. "But... it's _your_ birthday."

"Yes," Cas agreed again. "Which is a good excuse to have a party." He wasn't about to tell Dean that he himself didn't really have enough friends for such a large party. Dean probably had tons of friends in high school; he wasn't about to make himself look like a loser. He paused, turning to squint at Dean. "Will you be drinking?"

"Well, I have to drive us home."

Cas didn't respond right away. He wasn't sure what Dean meant by _home_. Was he dropping Cas off at his house and then going home? Probably not, because Cas left his car at work. But if Dean meant _his_ house, Cas was caught a bit off-guard by Dean simply calling it _home_. He didn't dwell on it though, instead trying to phrase his next sentence to get confirmation out of Dean as to where they were spending the night. "We are more than welcome to stay at Gabe's for the night, if you wish to drink, but if you want to go back to your house, I have no issue with that. I would prefer it, honestly. Gabe will be disappointed, though. He can't draw dicks on my face if I don't pass out."

Dean snorted a laugh. "So he's that kinda person, huh?"

Cas smiled, even though he hadn't really gotten an answer. "Yes. And it's the next house on the left."

"I figured. Y'know, all the cars."

Cas nodded as Dean pulled over onto the side of the road and put the car in park.

When they walked in the door, Gabe immediately spotted them from where he was standing in the hallway of the second floor.

"Hey!" he yelled, leaning over the railing. "Birthday boy's here!"

A chorus of yelling and whooping erupted from the crowd of guests in the living room, and a few people made their way over to them. The first one approached Dean, giving him a slap on the shoulder.

"Happy birthday, bro," he slurred, clearly drunk already.

"Oh, it's not-" Dean started, but Gabe interrupted him.

"The short one, you idiots!" he yelled as he made his way down the stairs.

"Sorry," the guy mumbled, then turned to Cas. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you," Cas said, giving the stranger a tight smile. A few others wished him a happy birthday as well before wandering off when Gabe appeared.

"Happy birthday Cassie!" he shouted, throwing his arms around Cas' neck.

Cas hugged him back, giving him a pat on the back. "Thank you, Gabe. I see you're drunk already."

"Well duh. It _is_ a party," Gabe responded, pulling away from him and being sure not to spill his drink. "You're the one who's late to your own party."

"You know I had to work," Cas said in defense.

Gabe ignored him and turned his eyes on Dean, looking him up and down. "And _this_ is Dean, hmm?"

"Yes, this is Dean," Cas confirmed, gesturing towards Dean.

"Nice to meet you," Dean said, holding his hand out.

Gabe grabbed it and shook fervently. "Nice to meet you, too, Dean-o! Heard _so_ much about you."

Dean glanced over at Cas with a smile, but Cas kept his eyes on Gabe, his face flushing slightly.

"Come," Gabe said, turning around. "Into the kitchen. Presents and cake and alcohol."

"Sounds good to me," Cas said quickly, following Gabe through the crowd and across the living room. When they got into the kitchen, Gabe made his way towards the counter, setting his drink down and cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone to be heard over the music.

"Unless you know Cas personally, get outta my kitchen!" he yelled.

A few people turned to look at him, trying to figure out who he was taking about. When they spotted Gabe pointing at Cas, and repeating, "If you don't know this guy, get out!", they slowly made their way out of the kitchen. Within a few minutes, only about three people were left, excluding Cas, Dean, Gabe, and Kevin.

Gabe pulled open one of the kitchen drawers and rummaged around for a moment, before triumphantly holding up a box of matches. He fumbled it open, striking three and using them to light the two candles- one number two and one number seven- on the large sheet cake on the counter.

When he glanced around at the others and took a deep breath, Cas held his hands up. "Please- You don't have to sing," he said quickly.

Gabe visibly deflated. "Party pooper."

Cas frowned and shrugged apologetically. "Sorry."

"Blow out the candles then so we can give you your presents!" Kevin exclaimed.

Cas took a step forward, leaning over and placing his hands on the edge of the counter. He sucked in a deep breath, releasing it to blow out the two candles in the center of the cake.

The seven of them clapped, and Cas stepped back from the counter, looking a bit embarrassed by all of the attention. Suddenly Gabe was wielding a large knife, hovering it over the cake, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tried to decide where to make the cut.

Kevin pushed into him and took it from his hand. "Maybe I should do it."

Gabe rolled his eyes and retrieved his drink from the counter. "Whatever."

As Kevin cut the cake and placed square slices on small paper plates, a girl approached Cas, holding out a small wrapped package. "Happy birthday," she said quietly, offering him a shy smile.

Cas smiled back as he took it from her outstretched hands. "Thank you." He began carefully opening the wrapping paper, and inside was a folded piece of purple fleece fabric, with little plastic clips on the corners. Dean wasn't sure what the hell it was, but Cas smiled up at her. "Thank you, Hannah." He leaned forward to wrap one arm around her, and she melted into him.

"You're welcome," she said into his shoulder.

When they pulled apart, she looked away, and Cas cleared his throat. "Hannah, this is Dean."

Hannah looked up to meet Dean's eyes, and he offered her a smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Same to you," she responded politely, dropping her eyes again.

"Hannah, come get some cake," Gabe said loudly, and Hannah gave Dean and Cas another small smile before turning back to where Kevin was finishing up.

The rest of Cas' friends made their way over and gave Cas his presents, and Cas introduced them to Dean. None of the introductions were half as awkward as the one with Hannah, and Dean wondered if that was just the way she was, or if there was something he was missing.

Finally Kevin came over, handing Cas a heavy package. "I remember you," he said to Dean, as Cas ripped the package open. "You were at PetSmart the other day."

"I was," Dean confirmed.

"Oooh, awesome."

They both looked over to see Cas cracking open the book on eighteenth century diseases he'd unwrapped.

"Yeah, I saw you eyeing my textbooks," Kevin commented. "Thought you'd like that."

"I do, Kevin. Thank you."

"Are you gonna have some of this cake, Cas? It is _your_ birthday."

"Yes, Gabe," Cas responded, setting the book on the counter with his other gifts and sidling up next to Gabe. "I mean, do you really have to ask?"

Gabe handed him a plate with two slices on it. "Good point. Here." He grabbed another plate with one slice and held it out to Dean.

"Oh, I'm good," Dean said, holding one hand up. "Thank you though."

"Damn, you're not even gonna have any cake on your boyfriend's birthday? Tsk tsk," he said, shaking his head.

"Okay, okay," Dean immediately resigned, reaching out for the plate. Gabe was right... refusing a slice was super weird, right?

Gabe picked up his drink again, taking a gulp. "Thanks for this," Cas said through a mouthful of cake.

Gabe threw one arm around his neck and ruffled his hair with his free hand. "Anything for my Cassie," he murmured. "And help yourself to the alcohol," he added before straightening up. "Now if you'll excuse me, there are many single ladies currently getting drunk in my living room."

Cas swallowed his mouthful of cake. "Have fun."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Kevin added.

Gabe rolled his eyes as he backed out of the kitchen. "Yeah. Right. Maybe if I wanted to die a boring virgin."

Cas snorted a laugh as Kevin narrowed his eyes. "I am _not_ a virgin."

"Whatever you say, Kev!" Gabe yelled, already in the living room.

They were left in awkward silence, which Kevin broke when he muttered, "I'm really not."

"I believe you," Cas said with a nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"With Gabe out of the room, I can vouch that Kevin is _definitely_ not a virgin," the girl standing next to Hannah, who Dean remembered was named Channing, said, waggling her eyebrows. Kevin's face flushed as he shoveled another forkful of cake into his mouth.

Cas and Hannah raised their eyebrows. "Okay then," Hannah said, pushing herself away from the counter she was leaning on. "I'm going to go get very drunk."

"Speaking of which," Channing said, knocking back the rest of what was in her glass. She turned around and reached up, pulling another drinking glass out of the cabinet and filling it a little more than a third of the way with vodka. "Straight, or screwdriver, Cas?"

"Screwdriver," Cas mumbled, finishing off the last of his cake and tossing the plate into the garbage.

She grabbed a carton of orange juice from the inside of the refrigerator door, filling the glass the rest of the way and handing it over to him. "What about you, Dean?"

"I'm alright. Gotta drive. Thanks though." She nodded and refilled her own glass, and Dean turned his head to see Cas chugging his. "Jesus."

Cas squinted a bit at the taste, but he'd already drank half the glass, so he didn't seem to be bothered by how strong Channing had made it. He gave Dean a nervous smile, looking almost sheepish. "Don't drink often, so..." He turned to Channing, Kevin, and the other guy, who Cas had introduced as Alfie. "Do you guys want to smoke?"

Kevin shook his head, but Alfie nodded and Channing shrugged. "Sure."

Cas knocked back the rest of his glass, pointing towards the ceiling. "Upstairs," he said once his glass was empty. Dean figured he didn't want to share with other party-goers he didn't know, who would inevitably come running when they smelled weed. That shit was expensive.

After Channing refilled Cas' glass, they made their way into the living room. There were people lingering everywhere, but it only took Cas a moment to spot Gabe chatting up some blonde on the couch. He called his name, and when Gabe looked over, Cas pinched his fingers together and held them up to his lips, the universal sign for _wanna smoke?_ He then nodded towards the staircase.

Gabe turned back to the blonde and whispered something in her ear, and she nodded, so Gabe stood up and left her there, making his way over towards Cas.

"We gotta make this quick. I'm about to close the deal."

Cas shook his head in amusement. "You don't _have_ to smoke."

"Uh, yeah, I do," Gabe retorted. "I can't _not_ partake in weed being smoked in my own house."

They headed up the stairs and down the hallway, and when Gabe opened the door to his bedroom, his eyes widened. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and took a step in.

"Hey! Go do that in the fucking guest room!"

"It's taken, man," Dean heard a guy say from inside the room.

"Not my problem. My room's off-limits. ...Get out."

There was some grumbling and shuffling as Gabe stood back in the doorway, arms crossed, and then a guy and a girl stumbled out into the hallway. The guy looked annoyed, his jeans still undone, but the girl was giggling and bouncing along behind him, so he probably still had a chance before the night was through.

They followed Gabe into the room, where he sat down on the bed and motioned towards a futon against the wall. He leaned back and reached behind the bed, pulling out a large bong and setting it down on the floor between them.

Dean set Cas' gifts he'd been holding down on Gabe's dresser for safe-keeping. Cas set his drink down next to them and pulled his bag out of his pocket, unrolling it and removing a large nug. He began breaking it up on the dresser, dropping the shredded plant matter into a pile. "Can you grab me the bong?"

Dean nodded and turned around to find Gabe holding it out to him. He passed it to Cas and stood next to him as he finished breaking up the weed and packed it into the large bowlhead, and then they sat down next to Channing and Alfie on the futon. The four of them were a bit squished between the metal railings, and since Dean was on the end near the door, one was digging into his hip, but it was worth it with the way Cas was pressed up against his other side.

They passed it back and forth for a while, Cas packing it up again and Alfie packing it twice as well. Cas thanked him for throwing down, but Alfie shook his head.

"It's your birthday. Not fair for you to smoke us all up."

Suddenly the music downstairs changed, and Gabe groaned. "These motherfuckers touching my goddamn stereo. I swear to god."

"You seem to get to annoyed at these same things that happen _every time_ you have a party," Channing observed.

"Because I have hope for these people!" He sighed. "But they're animals. Actually, no, they're worse than animals. At least animals can be trained."

Dean leaned forward to pass the bong to Gabe, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed. He took a huge hit that nearly clouded out the occupied half of the room on the exhale, then passed it to Channing. "Oh!" he said suddenly, clapping his hands together. "I almost forgot your present." He leaned sideways and reached under the bed, pulling out a wrapped present approximately the size of a shoe box. He slid it across the rug to Cas, who looked down at it suspiciously.

"Open it," Gabe urged, grabbing his drink from his night stand and taking a long drink.

Cas carefully peeled the paper back, popping open the box and pulling out a black shirt. He unfolded it to look at the design. In the center was a cute little cartoon fox, and underneath, the words _FUCK OFF_.

Cas snorted a laugh. "Thank you Gabe."

"Do you like it? 'Cause if not, there's something else in there."

Cas raised an eyebrow, looking down into the box. There was tissue paper on the bottom, so he reached in and pulled it up. His face fell as he dropped it back down, and he looked up at Gabe with wide eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yep, this way if you don't like the present you can go fuck yourself!" Gabe dissolved into a fit of drunken laughter as Channing and Alfie looked utterly confused. They leaned over to look in the box, as Dean reached over and moved the tissue paper. At the bottom of the box sat a bright pink dildo.

Channing and Alfie burst out laughing, which only spurred Gabe on further.

"It's not that funny," Cas said flatly, staring at Gabe with narrowed eyes.

"Aw, c'mon Cas, it's pretty funny," Dean said. Cas turned to look at him, his face burning, and Dean offered him a smile.

Gabe sat back up, his laughter finally dissipating. "Come on, Cas. Your face was the best part about it. I honestly didn't think you'd get so pissed. Since when are you such a prude?"

Cas looked even more embarrassed, but he didn't look angry anymore. Dean wrapped his arm around his shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze.

"It's because you did it in front of his new boyfriend, dumbass," Channing said. "It's embarrassing."

Gabe rolled his eyes. "Oh come on." He paused, looking around the room and noticing all eyes on him. "Seriously? You guys are serious."

"I thought it was funny," Dean said with a shrug. And he wasn't just saying that to make Cas feel better, he really did.

" _Thank you_ , Dean," Gabe said loudly. "At least somebody here has a sense of humor."

Cas, who had reached down between his feet for his drink, chugged half of it before lowering the glass into his lap. "I have a sense of humor," he blurted out. "Jus'... did it have to be pink?"

Gabe burst out laughing again, and finally Cas broke into a smile. Dean started, too, and then Cas joined in, and soon enough the five of them were all laughing. After a minute or two, once they'd settled down, Cas packed the bong again.

As it went around, Gabe and Alfie started talking about something, and Dean took the opportunity to talk to Cas. "What did Hannah get you?"

Cas, who had been watching Gabe and Alfie's conversation, turned his head. "What?"

"What is that thing Hannah got you?"

Cas stared at him for a moment, blinking slowly, before smiling. "Oh. A hammock for Roger's cage."

"A hammock?"

Cas nodded. "The little clips attach to the- to the, uh... bars. He loves lying in them but he also chews 'em up, so I can never have enough." He paused, losing focus for a moment. "Urgh, sorry, I'm kinda fucked up."

Dean grinned. "'Kinda'?" He glanced at Cas' empty glass, which was the second one he'd drained, a third of the way full of vodka. If Dean had to guess, he'd say Cas had ingested at least six shots worth of vodka in the last hour, with the way Channing had made those screwdrivers, and they seemed to be hitting him right about now.

"Mhmm," Cas agreed, leaning to the side and resting his forehead on Dean's shoulder.

Dean wrapped his arm around him. "Is Hannah always like that?"

"Always like what?" he mumbled.

"I dunno. I feel like she didn't like me too much."

"Oh," Cas sighed. "That."

Dean frowned. So apparently he _hadn't_ been imagining things.

"What about Hannah?" Gabe asked loudly from the floor.

Dean worried his lip between his teeth. He hadn't really been trying to include the entire room in on the conversation.

"Dean's asking why she was being weird," Cas sighed, lifting his head. Dean let his arm fall away as Cas straightened up, feeling pretty embarrassed. He hadn't wanted everyone to know what he'd asked Cas.

"Oh, that," Channing said dismissively, bringing the bong to her lips to take another hit.

"Hannah's had a crush on Cas since, like, middle school," Gabe explained. "So whenever she sees someone interested in him she gets all _sad_." He rolled his eyes.

"Don't be mean, Gabe," Channing said, exhaling her hit into the center of the room and passing the bong to Alfie.

"Well she needs to get over it- it's been like fifteen years!" Gabe exclaimed, flinging his hands up to emphasize his exasperation. "He likes dick. End of story. I don't know why she takes it so personally."

"Oh just leave her alone," Channing sighed.

"It's not healthy," Gabe said, standing up. "I'm telling you."

"Let it go, Gabe," Cas groaned.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, waving his hand dismissively at Cas. "Maybe I'll get _her_ a dildo." Channing and Alfie snickered at that. "Shit, I'm supposed to be downstairs with that girl anyway. I hope she didn't forget about me."

"It's been like an hour," Alfie said slowly.

"How could anyone forget about you?" Channing said sarcastically.

"Har har. Anyway, you guys might want to clear out of here because we'll be comin' up."

"Gross," Alfie mumbled.

"That's nature, my friend."

"Yeah, well I don't want to picture _you_ doing anything natural," he muttered.

"Then get outta my room, prude," Gabe snapped back.

"We're going, jeez," Channing said, taking the bong from Alfie and setting it on the floor. "Might want to make sure your participant is still participating first, though."

Dean grabbed the box and Cas' stuff off of the dresser and followed them out the door and into the hallway. Gabe locked his door this time to ensure he wouldn't find anyone else humping on his bed upon his return. He grabbed Cas' shoulder to help him down the stairs, but Cas brushed him off.

"I'm fine, Gabe, jeez," he sighed, grabbing onto the railing and wobbling down the stairs.

"Fine, drunkie," Gabe responded, holding his hands up in surrender and following behind Cas down the stairs.

Dean felt like he should've been helping him, but he was occupied carrying Cas' gifts and Cas insisted he was fine. But he descended the stairs behind Gabe, watching Cas like a hawk in case he took a nose-dive down the staircase. When they reached the bottom, Gabe steered Cas towards the couch with little resistance, pushing him down onto it and wandering off to look for the girl he'd been talking to. Dean leaned down to talk into his ear over the music.

"I'm going to go put your stuff in the car, okay?" Cas nodded. "I'll be right back."

When he returned, Hannah was sitting on the couch, talking to Cas, who was obviously having trouble following the conversation. Dean felt a bit of jealousy simmering in his chest, but he ignored it. Just because Hannah liked Cas, didn't mean anything was going to happen. Cas _only_ liked guys, right? That's what his friends had said... although that wasn't what Cas had said. Cas had stayed relatively quiet throughout the entire conversation.

He made his way over to the couch and smiled down at Cas. A drunken smile spread across Cas' face and Hannah looked up with a nervous one. "Hi, Dean."

Dean smiled back. "Hi Hannah."

"I was just asking Cas how you two met. He said you worked on his car?"

Dean nodded, trying not to think about them talking about him while he wasn't around. He wondered what else Hannah had said. "Yeah. He came into my job for an oil change."

She smiled again. "What're the chances, huh?"

Cas smiled and nodded, and Hannah ran her hands down over her legs, smoothing out her skirt. "I'm going to go get another drink," she said, standing up. "I'll talk to you guys later."

Dean nodded.

"Bye," Cas said, a little too loud.

Dean sat down next to him, pressing their thighs together. He put his arm up on the back of the couch behind Cas and leaned over into his space. "Why'd you get so drunk, Cas?" he asked, voice low and teasing in his ear.

Cas pulled back and grinned at him. "'Cause it's fun."

"I'll have to agree with you on that one."

Cas leaned in, closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to Dean's. Dean opened his mouth and Cas pushed his tongue inside. He tasted like weed and vodka, and Dean had to admit he felt like someone half his age, making out with his fucked up boyfriend on someone's couch at a house party. But he'd never gotten to do that stuff as a teenager, so he relished the chance to do it now. He only wished he could've been fucked up, too. Maybe next time they'd stay at Gabe's. Rubbing alcohol took Sharpie off of skin anyway, right?

They hung around for another hour before Cas asked Dean if he wanted to go.

"If you do," Dean said, and Cas nodded. "Do you want to say goodbye?"

Cas looked around and Dean followed his gaze. Gabe had disappeared up the stairs with a girl, Kevin and Channing were nowhere to be found (although Dean had an idea of where they could have gone to), and Hannah and Alfie were talking in the kitchen.

"I dunno where they are," Cas slurred, turning his head back to face Dean.

"Alright, come on." Dean stood up and moved so that he was in front of Cas, reaching down with both hands. Cas took them and Dean took a step back, pulling him up off the couch. He didn't let go, knowing as soon as Cas stood, he'd probably lose his balance.

But Cas stood up fine, so Dean let his right hand fall away from Cas' left and they walked hand-in-hand towards the door, until Cas stopped and pulled his hand away.

"Wait wait wait," he said, spreading his arms out at his sides to keep himself balanced after such a sudden stop.

Dean stopped in the doorway and turned around. "What?"

Cas stared back at him, hair a mess and eyes wide. It was all Dean could do to not burst out laughing at how ridiculous and adorable Cas looked while he was drunk. "Is there more cake?" he asked, his tone serious.

Dean chuckled and shook his head slightly. "Probably. Come on." He took Cas' hand again and led him back through the living room and to the kitchen.

Hannah and Channing, who had been leaning against the counter chatting, looked surprised when Cas announced their entrance by nearly tripping over a chair.

"I'm fine," he said loudly, making his way over to the counter. "How are you two?"

Hannah smiled. "We're good, Cas. Are you enjoying your birthday?"

"I am," he said with a nod, attempting to climb onto one of the stools at the island. "What happened to the cake?"

"It's in the fridge," Channing said. "Didn't want all these randos eating it."

"Do you want me to get you some?" Hannah offered.

"Thank you Hannah," Cas sighed, leaning forward until his head was buried in his arms. "You're so kind," he added, his words muffled.

Dean watched as Hannah pulled the cake from the fridge and cut another square out of it for Cas, placing it on one of the extra plates and setting it down in front of him. He didn't realize she'd done so, so she placed her hand on his upper arm.

"Here. And I cut you the corner piece with all the frosting."

Dean wasn't sure what he was feeling- maybe a little bit of annoyance, probably a lot of jealousy- as Cas snapped his head up and smiled up at her. "Thank you Hannah..." he slurred. "You know me so well."

Hannah's eyes flicked to Dean for the quickest moment before moving back to Cas. She smiled, nodded, and lowered her hand, backing away to stand next to Channing again. Dean took the seat next to Cas, and Cas' face lit up when he noticed him.

"Dean! Do you want some?"

"I'm okay, Cas. You eat it."

"Aw, c'mon, share it with me," Cas pleaded.

Dean couldn't say no to that face, although he'd already eaten a slice of his own. "Okay."

"I get all the frosting though."

"Deal."

"Here," Cas said, cutting a piece and holding it up on the fork.

Dean gave him a small smile. "You don't have to feed me, Cas."

"But I want to," he pouted.

It wasn't that Dean really had a problem with it. Cas was drunk, and if Dean was, too, he probably wouldn't think twice about it. But aside from being a bit stoned, he was pretty sober, and he could _feel_ Hannah watching them. It was awkward, to say the least. He leaned forward to whisper in Cas' ear.

"Cas, you can feed me whatever the hell you want when we get home. Just... please not here."

He leaned back again to look into Cas' eyes, pleading for Cas to drop it, and Cas simply nodded. He didn't seem offended, which Dean was thankful for. He slid the plate over to Dean, who took a bite as Cas patted down his thighs.

"My phone," he mumbled.

"Hmm?" Dean said around his second bite of cake.

"I lost my phone." He looked past Dean into the living room. "Maybe on the couch."

"I'll go check," Dean said, sliding the plate back over for Cas to finish.

He had to ask someone to move, but he found Cas' phone shoved between the cushion and the arm of the couch. He slid it into his pocket just as a hand grabbed his shoulder, and he turned around to see Gabe standing behind him.

"Where's Cas?"

"In the kitchen. He left his phone over here so I came to get it." Gabe nodded. "I thought you were tryin' to get laid? What happened?"

"Already did, my friend," he said, turning his head to throw a wink at a brunette across the room. She smiled and waved, and Gabe turned back to Dean.

"Oh. Congratulations." He wasn't sure what else to say, but Gabe was just standing there. "So... you own this house?" Dean asked.

"Pffft," Gabe scoffed. "I'm twenty-five, dude. This is my parents shit. They're just never here."

"You're twenty-five?" Dean repeated.

"Yep," he said with a smug smile. "And livin' the life, I tell ya." He paused, studying Dean. "Glad Cas didn't meet you here at one of my parties, though. Everyone he meets at my parties ends up being a huge dick."

Dean frowned, the thought of Cas hooking up with some random person at one of Gabe's parties making him feel a little sick. "Well I certainly try not to be a huge dick," he said.

"Good," Gabe said, raising his eyebrows. "Otherwise I'll fuck you up. Nobody hurts my Cassie. He's like my little brother, and he's too kind-hearted for that nonsense."

Dean grinned. "He's two years older than you."

"And you're a decade older, but I'll still fuck you up."

Dean nodded, a little taken aback. "Okay." He had to respect Gabe for looking out for his friend. He turned his head towards the kitchen to see Cas drinking another screwdriver. "Is- is he still drinking? We were about to leave." He started towards the kitchen but Gabe reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Little tip about Cas- he likes to shove shit down. He acts like he's fine, and he does a damn good job lookin' like it, too, but... He's not really a drinker. So when he pounds the drinks like that he's not fine." He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly thinking. "And that was totally out of character upstairs, by the way. So don't think he's a total tight-ass."

Dean frowned back at him. "Well do you know what's wrong?"

Gabe shrugged. "His mom's a bitch," he said, so matter-of-factly that it caught Dean off guard. "Sometimes it gets to him. She probably said some stupid shit today about him being another year older and still not doing anything with his life."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You're joking."

"I wish I was." He paused. "I mean, he didn't say anything to me, but he hasn't in a while. He doesn't talk about it much these days, but I've known him for like sixteen years, and shit like that doesn't just change. I'm positive she either said something, or he's thinking about what she's going to say, or what she's said every other fuckin' year."

Dean looked back into the kitchen, where Cas was staring blankly into his glass. He glanced at Gabe. "Thanks."

"Any time. And you didn't hear shit from me."

He made his way back into the kitchen and over to Cas. "Hey. I found your phone. Are you ready?"

Cas nodded, and Dean grabbed his empty plate and tossed it into the garbage. When he turned around to help Cas up, Cas was already stumbling off of the stool, and he had to grab his arm to steady him. They stood like that for a moment, until Cas nodded.

"I'm good."

Dean nodded back and slid his hand down his arm to take Cas' hand. Cas said his goodbyes to Hannah and Channing and followed Dean out of the kitchen and to the car, staring down at his feet to make sure he put one foot in front of the other as he walked. When they got into the Impala, Cas fumbled with his pack of cigarettes for a moment, trying to get one out. When he finally did, he lit it and left it dangling from his lips as he rolled down the window. Dean started the car, and he closed his eyes and took a long drag.

"Thanks for coming," he mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Thanks for inviting me," Dean said, putting the car into drive. "Did you have fun?"

"Mhmm." He took another drag off of his cigarette as Dean pulled away from the curb.

They drove to the end of the road without incident, but once Dean took the first turn, Cas eyes flew open and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

Cas placed his free hand over his stomach, staring ahead at the dashboard. "Kinda nauseous."

Dean worried his lip between his teeth. "Please try and give me a heads up if you're gonna barf... I'll pull over."

Cas nodded slowly, and Dean kept driving, being sure to take the turns (and there were so many turns) as slowly as possible.

"Are you takin' me to my house?" Cas asked eventually, as the trees outside the window thinned out and more houses began to appear.

"I was going to take us back to mine," Dean answered. "Unless you want me to take you home?"

"No," Cas said quietly. Then he added, "I like yours better."

Dean smiled to himself. He was glad Cas liked coming over. He certainly enjoyed having him over. He hadn't realized how lonely he was until he met Cas, and had to spend the nights alone when Cas went home. But then he remembered what Gabe had said, and it made him feel horrible. Cas probably hated going home. Briefly, Dean had the idea to ask Cas to move in with him, but he immediately shut that thought down. They'd only been together for about a month. He wasn't stupid- anything could happen. And even if _he_ was being optimistic, Cas would probably think he was weird for asking him to move in so soon. No, it would be better to hold off on that.

They'd just turned onto Dean's street when Cas rasped, "Dean."

Dean looked over to see Cas scrambling to get a grip on the door handle. He quickly pulled over, reaching across Cas' lap to yank the handle and push the door open. Cas lurched forward, and Dean could hear the sound of liquid hitting the pavement as Cas threw up cake and alcohol into the street. As bad as he felt for Cas, he was infinitely thankful that he hadn't vomited in his car.

Cas heaved twice more, followed by spitting, and then he twisted back around and leaned back in the seat.

"Fuck," he croaked. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You got drunk. You threw up. It happens."

"Tha's true."

"Are you done though? We're only like two minutes from my house."

Cas nodded and reached out, pulling the door closed again. When they pulled into the driveway, Dean killed the engine and they sat in silence for a moment, listening to it tick.

"Do you need help getting out?"

Cas shook his head. "I feel much better now."

Dean chuckled. "Good."

Once inside, Cas stumbled straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth as Dean let Floyd out back. When he passed the bedroom on his way to brush his own teeth, Cas was standing on the far side of the bed, staring down at it and swaying slightly.

"Are you gonna lay down?" Dean asked, stopped in the hallway.

"Um. I felt like I should wait for you?" he answered, although he said it more like a question, looking up and squinting at Dean.

Dean shook his head. "It's fine, Cas. You could've gotten into bed."

Cas nodded and began fumbling with the buckle of his belt as Dean went to brush his teeth. When he returned, Cas had only managed to get his pants off. Dean brought a small garbage can around to his side of the bed, setting it down by the night stand as Cas yanked his shirt off over his head.

"Here." He tried not to stare as he realized Cas just took his shirt off in front of him for the first time. He'd touched Cas quite a few times already under the cover of darkness, and he just assumed Cas was playing along with Dean's insecurity, but as he made his way back around the bed, watching Cas out of the corner of his eye, he realized Cas was probably self-conscious, too- as much as he tried to act like he wasn't- and in his current drunken state, had probably completely forgotten. Dean didn't really see why Cas would be self-conscious anyway- sure, Cas was a bit soft- but he was hot. In Dean's opinion, anyway.

Cas smiled as he pulled the covers back. "Thank you, Dean."

"Welcome," he replied, averting his eyes as he got into bed. "Can't have you throwin' up on my carpet now."

"I think I'm good now," he mumbled, climbing into the bed next to Dean.

Dean clicked off the light and rolled over to face Cas, resting his face against his chest. He tucked his arm beneath the blanket and draped it over Cas' thighs, bending it at the elbow and resting his hand on his stomach. "Good."

They laid in the dark for about sixty seconds before Dean mumbled, "Oh shit."

Cas made a low, questioning sound.

"I didn't give you your present yet."

"Tomorrow," Cas mumbled.

"It is tomorrow," Dean shot back with a sleepy chuckle.

"You know what I mean," Cas responded, a small smile spreading across his face.

They were quiet again for another minute, until...

"Hey, Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"I feel fine now... Still drunk, but not nauseous."

Dean was quiet, chewing on his lip. He wasn't sure how to approach this. "That's not really what I meant."

"...I don't understand."

Dean didn't want to put Gabriel on blast, but he wanted to give Cas the opportunity to talk to him. "You just seem a little down. ...Lately."

"I do?" He didn't sound surprised, but... almost embarrassed, like he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

_No_ , Dean wanted to answer. _Not really. At least not enough for me to notice until Gabe pointed it out. And now I notice and feel kind of shitty about not noticing before._ "A little," he answered. "So I'm just asking."

Cas was quiet for a second before clearing his throat. "No, I'm okay." He paused. "Thank you, Dean."

"Any time, Cas," Dean answered. He wished Cas would talk to him, but they hadn't been together that long. Cas' family life was none of his business, and he wasn't going to pressure him to share information he wasn't ready to. They fell quiet again, and Dean let his mind wander to the party; to the way Hannah looked at Cas, to what Cas' other friends had said about her, to the way she touched Cas' shoulder when she handed him that slice of cake.

"So Hannah's really liked you for that long, huh?" he heard himself say.

"Mhmm," Cas responded, clearly half-asleep. Dean hesitated, unsure of what else to say, but Cas saved him by continuing. "She's nice an' all. A really good friend. But I'm jus'..." He breathed out a deep sigh. "...Not into vaginas. Hones'ly I think they're kinda gross."

Dean snorted a laugh, and Cas blearily opened his eyes, one corner of his mouth lifting into a smile as he turned his head to squint at Dean. "What?"

"You're funny when you're drunk."

"'Nd I'm not when I'm sober? Tha's fucked up."

"Don't put words in my mouth, now."

Cas closed his eyes again and turned his head so he was facing the ceiling. "So d'you disagree?"

"Yes, Cas, you're funny when you're sober."

"Tha's not what I meant. I meant about women."

"Oh. No, I like both, so..." He shrugged the shoulder of the arm that was on top of Cas. "So my vote is not gross."

Cas made a little noise of acknowledgement.

"Does that bother you?" Dean asked after a beat of silence.

"Why would it?" Cas asked.

"I dunno. ...Some people think it's gross, or greedy... or that we're all cheaters," he said quietly.

"I trust you," Cas breathed, nearly asleep.

"Good," Dean mumbled. He moved up a bit in the bed to situate his head better on the pillow and threw his arm over Cas' chest. "Night."

Cas only responded with a small grunt, too far gone into sleep to form words.

As Dean drifted off, he realized he hadn't even attempted to enter the cake into his tracker. The brand and variety would cause it to vary anyway- it was a generic grocery store sheet cake, and he'd have to sit there and enter the nutrition info manually, which he wasn't doing in front of all of Cas' friends- but he really should've entered something anyway, even if it was only an estimate.

But he was tired and Cas was warm, so he would have to try and remember to enter it tomorrow.

* * *

_June_

"I can't believe I have to sit bitch," Charlie complained from the backseat.

"Oh, put a sock in it," Dean muttered, turning the key in the ignition. The Impala roared to life, and the radio kicked on.

"Can we listen to one-oh-five nine?" she asked hopefully.

"Hell no," Dean grumbled. The current station was playing a commercial, so he flipped to the other classic rock station, and _Over the Hills and Far Away_ crackled from the speakers. " _Yes_."

"Don't you get tired of listening to the same songs over and over again?" Charlie sighed.

"No," Dean and Cas said in unison. Dean looked over and met his eyes, and they shared a soft smile before Charlie's snort of a laugh ruined the moment.

"God, you guys are, like, perfect for each other."

"Don't be jealous," Dean retorted.

"Pfft," she scoffed. "I'm certainly not jealous. Maybe if you had a hot _girl_ on your arm."

"Yeah, I'm good on that," Dean mumbled.

"We squabble like siblings," Charlie said to Cas. "Don't mind us."

"I didn't say anything," Cas responded, a small smile tugging at his lips.

They were headed into town to get lunch and see the new Harry Potter movie, _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , and it was Cas and Charlie's first time meeting. Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit nervous.

Lunch went well, and afterwards they headed to the theater and got snacks from the concession stand as Charlie shamelessly flirted with the girl behind the counter. They hung back and waited for her for a minute or two, Cas popping popcorn into his mouth one piece at a time, until Charlie finally walked back over to them.

"Score," she grinned, holding up a napkin with a number written on it.

"Good job," Dean mumbled teasingly. "Maybe you can finally have your craft club."

Charlie punched him in the shoulder, and Cas raised one eyebrow as they headed towards the theater. "...Craft club?"

"That's what Dean calls lesbian sex," Charlie huffed, rolling her eyes. "Because he's fucking twelve."

"I am not twelve," Dean mutter indignantly. "I'm thirteen."

Cas chucked lightly and shook his head as they entered the theater and took their seats.

"I'm so excited," Charlie murmured. "It's been so long since I've seen anything Harry Potter related in theaters. This really brings me back."

"Mhmm," Dean agreed. When the first was released in 2001, he was already at least four-fifty, so he was pretty positive he wouldn't have fit in the seats. He wasn't about to go all the way to the theater to try, either- he'd have rather just missed out than have to leave embarrassed- no, mortified. So Charlie had been sure to come over afterwards and tell him all about them. By the time the fifth was released in 2007, two years after his surgery, he'd finally been able to go. Part of him had still been worried walking into the theater, and he'd wanted to cry when he dropped into the seat with ease- and room to spare.

Charlie looked around the theater. "I really like the remodel they did in here. These seats are super comfy and roomy as fuck. Too bad they weren't this big years ago, so you could've come."

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. " _Charlie_. Shut up," he muttered.

"Sorry," she said quietly. Her eyes flicked to Cas, who was on the other side of Dean. He was preoccupied with trying to rip the too-tight plastic off of a box of Buncha Crunch and didn't seem to hear the exchange.

"Gimmie," Dean said, passing Cas the bucket of popcorn and taking the box of candy. He pulled a knife from his pocket and slashed the wrapper, before peeling it off and shoving it into his pocket and handing the box back to Cas.

"Thank you, Dean. Would you like some?"

"No thanks," Dean declined. "I'm good with some popcorn."

Cas nodded and popped a few pieces of the chocolate into his mouth.

As the movie started, Dean found himself feeling like a teenager again. Although Charlie was there, he was still kind of on a date to the movies with Cas, and they shared popcorn, held hands, and totally _didn't_ make out for a minute until Charlie pinched his arm and made them break apart. He liked how Cas made him feel young- younger than either of them actually were.

After the movie, they headed back to Dean's, and when Charlie left shortly after, Dean walked her out.

"So?" Dean asked nonchalantly, as they stood next to Charlie's car in the dark.

"I like him," Charlie declared, swinging her keys around her finger by the key ring. "He's awesome. Gets the best friend stamp of approval."

Dean gave her a half-grin. "Good."

"I gotta get going. You guys be good." She smiled. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Dean scoffed a laugh. "That isn't much."

"You're right," she agreed with a wink. "It's not. _Caio!_ " She reached down and opened her car door, and Dean gave her a small wave before stepping back, turning around, and heading back into the house.

Cas was sitting on the couch, idly flipping through the channels on the television.

"Did you like the movie?" Dean asked, taking a seat next to him.

"Yeah, it was pretty good. Did you?"

Dean nodded. What he really liked, though, was holding Cas' hand in the theater. Call him a sap, but he'd be a liar if he said it didn't make his heart beat a little faster.

They watched TV for a while, until Cas broke the silence.

"So can you play that guitar you have in your room, or what?"

Dean raised an eyebrow, turning his head from the TV to look at Cas. "Of course. Why? You wanna hear me play?"

"Duh," Cas responded, rolling his eyes. "I'm honestly surprised you didn't try to court me by playing it."

Dean grinned, his other eyebrow rising to match the first. "I'm awesome enough on my own that I don't need to swoon you with the guitar."

Cas pursed his lips. "That's true. But I want to hear you play anyway."

"Okay," Dean said with a nod, pushing himself up from the couch. He strode off into the hallway, and when he came back, he was carrying an acoustic guitar. "Any requests?" he asked as he reclaimed his seat on the couch.

"Surprise me."

Dean looked off across the room for a moment, tapping his fingers on the body of the guitar before suddenly deciding. He began strumming, and he was happy to see a large smile appear on Cas' face, indicating he recognized the song. Although, if Cas didn't recognize this one, Dean would've had to seriously school him on some music.

_"There is a house in New Orleans, they call the Rising Sun_   
_And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and god, I know I'm one_

_My mother was a tailor, she sewed my new blue jeans_   
_My father was a gamblin' man, down in New Orleans"_

He continued playing and singing along, getting lost in the vocalizations and focusing on the precise movements of his fingers. He loved playing the guitar. It was one of the hobbies he really enjoyed when he was younger and was stuck at home with nothing to do all day.

_"Oh mother, tell your children, not to do what I have done_   
_Spend your lives in sin and misery, in the House of the Rising Sun"_

It was about this time that he realized Cas was staring at him, eyes wide.

He abruptly stopped strumming. "...What?"

Cas blinked slowly, giving his head a light shake. "Nothing, I... I just wasn't expecting you to sing, too."

"Sor-"

"No," Cas said quickly. "Don't apologize. I just... didn't realize you could sing. You're good. Like... really good."

Dean could see Cas' face pinkening as he delivered the compliment, and he felt his own face flushing at the praise. "Thank you."

Cas lowered his eyes. "You're welcome."

"Haven't you heard me sing along to the radio before?"

"Yeah, but..." When Dean sang along in the car, he was having fun, belting out the lyrics all silly and care-free. But as he played, he'd put so much emotion behind the words, that the difference was staggering. "...It's different."

Dean set the guitar down on the floor and leaned forward. "Hey."

Cas lifted his eyes to meet Dean's, and Dean reached forward to cup his face in his hands. He pulled him towards him and pressed their lips together.

Cas parted his lips so Dean could slide his tongue inside, as Dean's hand slid down to settle on the side of Cas' neck. Within a minute of making out, Dean could feel his erection pressing up against the denim of his jeans. Cas was growing hard, too, and he just barely pulled away.

"Dean?" he asked, only centimeters from Dean's mouth.

"Mm?"

"...Can I suck your dick? Please?"

Dean opened his eyes and Cas was staring right into them, blue eyes wide and pleading. He let his hand fall away from Cas' neck, his tongue coming out to wet his lips.

Cas sensed his hesitation. "Please, Dean, you've gone down on me so many times. Let me-"

"Okay," Dean said softly. "Yeah."

He'd been avoiding this. He'd been avoiding being on the receiving end, so that Cas wouldn't see the scar that ran along his pelvis, or the two that ran down the inside of his thighs. But if he kept it up any longer, Cas was going to get suspicious. God forbid he thought Dean had an STD or something.

Cas' eyes lit up and he placed an open palm to Dean's chest, gently pushing him back into the couch.

"Hit the light," Dean said quietly.

Cas didn't question him, only did as he was told. Dean guessed maybe he just thought Dean was self-conscious, which he figured really was the gist of it anyway, wasn't it?

When Cas returned to the couch, only the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room, Dean's erection was waning from worry. Cas lifted one leg and settled down on Dean's lap, leaning forward and planting a kiss on his mouth. He then moved further south, down Dean's jawline and his neck, to his collarbone. Cas' mouth was warm and his lips were soft against his skin, and he felt his dick hardening again.

Cas shimmied down, all the way to Dean's shins, skipping over his entire chest and stomach, and Dean was grateful for that. He glanced down as Cas worked his pants open, hoping that the white line across his pelvis wouldn't be visible under the glow of the TV.

But just as Cas tugged his zipper down, he lost his nerve and reached out onto the coffee table for the remote control. He hit the power button, turning off the TV and plunging the room into darkness.

Cas' hands stilled. "Why'd you turn off the TV?" he asked.

"Distracting," Dean muttered. _Smooth, Dean. Not helping the he-probably-thinks-you-have-an-STD thing._

Cas seemed to accept that answer, because his hands started moving again, up to the waistband of his jeans. He tucked his fingers in and pulled them down to his thighs, taking Dean's boxers along with them. Placing his left hand on the top of Dean's thigh to support himself, he set his other hand on Dean's hip. He slowly sllid it across his pelvis until he reached the base of Dean's dick, which he then he took it in his hand, squeezing lightly.

Dean released a soft exhale as his worries faded away. The room was dark, and it had been quite a while since Benny had done what Cas was about to do. In fact, it had been quite a while- even before meeting Cas- since he and Benny had done much of anything. Cas hadn't even gotten to the good part yet, but his body was now buzzing with anticipation. He felt Cas' warm breath on the head, and then his lips were on him, planting soft kisses on the underside of the head and trailing down to the base before licking a long, wet stripe back up the shaft.

Dean let his head fall back onto the arm of the couch as Cas wrapped his lips around the head, lapping his tongue along the slit and gently massaging the base with his fingers.

A soft moan escaped Dean's lips as Cas pushed down further, pressing his tongue along the shaft and slowly coming back up. He pushed back down again, and the head of Dean's dick bumped the roof of Cas' mouth.

"Fuck," Dean breathed. "So good, Cas." He really wished he could see Cas' face- see his lips stretched around his cock, see his length disappearing into Cas' mouth, see those blue eyes looking up at him. But he wasn't ready to explain his scars, so he'd have to settle on only being able to feel for now.

Cas picked up a steady rhythm, bobbing his head up and down as he worked the base in his hand, occasionally letting go to gently fondle his scrotum. He had Dean coming undone in a matter of minutes, that familiar heat building inside him faster than he expected. Dean reached down to grab a hold of Cas' hair, and was rewarded with the vibrations of Cas groaning onto his cock.

"Jesus fuck," Dean groaned, teeth gritted and fingers tightening in Cas' hair.

Cas didn't slow down- only continued doing exactly what he was doing. He slid one finger behind Dean's sack, pressing it to his perineum, and everything in Dean tightened, his hips lifting a bit off of the couch as his dick twitched in Cas' mouth. Cas swallowed around him, pumping the base with his fingers to milk Dean of every last drop.

As Cas pulled off of him, Dean let his hand fall away from his hair and limply to the side. "Holy shit," he gasped.

Cas yanked his boxers back up and tucked him inside before climbing back up to straddle his lap. He wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and leaned down to kiss him, and Dean placed his hands on Cas' waist, parting his lips. Cas pushed his tongue inside, licking along the inside of his mouth, and Dean could taste himself on Cas' tongue.

Cas pulled away and rested his forehead on Dean's. "Thank you for letting me do that."

Dean scoffed, slowly running his palms up and down Cas' sides. " _I_ should be thanking _you_."

Cas hummed. "Well, you're welcome," he said softly, before leaning in for another kiss.

* * *

_July_

_Another perfect score. The game was getting boring, but Dean really had nothing else to do these days. He smelled food and set the controller down just as a plate of food was set on the table in front of him._

_It felt like he just ate, but he knew he still had room, and it looked fucking delicious. Part of him felt guilty, but he pushed it down. It was a useless feeling, because what would skipping one meal really do, anyway? He never had enough willpower to skip enough meals to make a difference, so what was the point in trying? And although he knew the guilt would be a hundred times worse once he finished eating, he reached for the plate anyway._

_"Thanks, mom."_

_"You're welcome, Dean."_

_He froze. He knew that voice, and it wasn't his mom. He whipped his head around to see Cas standing behind the couch, a soft smile on his face._

_"Eat up."_

Dean groaned and rolled over, reaching out from underneath the blankets to smack his alarm clock. He rolled over onto his back, stretching his arms up above his head and groaning again. Another late night with Cas, and he was exhausted. But the last three months had been amazing, and it was well worth it.

He wished he could have woken up next to Cas, but they both had work today. Since Cas was working the evening shift, he'd gone home late last night so that he could sleep in today.

Then he remembered the dream. And what a weird dream it was. Sure, Cas was always insisting on sharing his food, but he wasn't anything like his fucking mom, for Christ's sake. He could almost taste the embarrassment and shame building in him thinking back to the way he used to be. Who would think a dream about playing video games and eating a home cooked meal from your mom could actually be a fucking nightmare?

He tried not to think too much into it. It was just a stupid dream. Dean threw the blanket off and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking around the room. His eyes fell to rest on Floyd, conked out at the foot of the bed.

"Mornin', Floyd."

Floyd didn't respond.

Dean stood up and made his way to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. When he returned to the bedroom, Floyd was still asleep. He went over to his dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, but when he went to button his jeans, there was a problem- they were uncomfortably tight.

"What the fuck?" he mumbled. He was off the day before, and he'd spent the day hanging out with Cas in their pajamas, but his jeans fit fine the day before that... didn't they?

Maybe they'd shrunk in the dryer. He went to stand in front of the mirror, and his eyes widened when he realized that no, they hadn't shrunk. He'd grown. It wasn't much, but he was definitely filling out around the middle. He unbuttoned them and let them fall to the floor, then raced to the bathroom and got on the scale.

_205_.

His hands came up to run through his hair as he stared down at the number. _No_. No no no. He tried to think back to the last time he weighed himself. He ran back into the bedroom and grabbed his phone, opening up his tracking app. Two and a half months ago, and he'd been 192. He normally stayed around 190, and slight fluctuation was normal, so he hadn't thought anything of it. But now he'd put on thirteen pounds in twelve weeks, and he _hadn't even noticed_. He scrolled through the last two months on the app. He'd missed his last weigh-in, and as he scrolled through the daily logs, they were empty more often than not.

He thought back to all the time he'd spent hanging out with Cas, nearly every day- neglecting his walks with Floyd, smoking way too much weed, and sharing take-out.

And then he remembered his dream. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something?

_Fuck_.

He couldn't do this again. This was exactly the reason why he had to be so strict with himself. When he slipped, he slipped _hard_. He wasn't going to end up the way he was before. He wasn't going to undo all of his hard work.

He knew what Charlie would say. _Just tell him_. He entertained the idea for maybe half a second before the embarrassment was too much to handle. He pictured Cas' reaction, an odd look or maybe a joke, and he felt nausea swimming in his stomach. Or maybe it would be worse- Cas would say nothing, and Dean would just have to spend the rest of forever paranoid that his view of him had been irreparably damaged.

And what was the point, anyway? He couldn't expect Cas to change. How could he even bring it up without making Cas feel like shit? _Hey, Cas, you eat like shit. Mind cleaning it up around me?_ There was nothing wrong with Cas... there was something wrong with _him_.

He only saw one option.

He got re-dressed, the uncomfortable tightness of his jeans a constant reminder that he'd fucked up, and woke Floyd up for breakfast. He'd slept in, so he didn't have time for their walk, and it made him feel even worse about the current situation. So he took his vitamins with a glass of water and had only an apple for breakfast, making sure to enter it into his tracker as he watched Floyd sniff around the yard.

He was on auto-pilot all day, so Bobby stuck him with mostly oil change duty- simple, monotonous, and didn't require a lot of concentration. Jo kept bugging him, but he ignored her, until finally around lunchtime, Bobby snapped at her to leave him alone and get back to work.

When he got home, he sent a text to Cas.

**Dean: hey, what time do you get off?**

**Cas: 9**

He didn't say anything else, instead staring blankly at the TV as he waited for Cas to get out of work. He munched on a bag of baby carrots, occasionally tossing one to Floyd. He hated this. He hated that it had been twelve years, and food still controlled his fucking life.

At eight-thirty, he locked up the house and got in the car, and he was in the PetSmart parking lot at five to nine. He chewed on his nails as he watched the doors, anxiously waiting for Cas to come out. What was he even going to say to him?

Finally, at ten after, the lights turned off and Cas and four other co-workers exited the building. They all veered off on the opposite direction, where most of the employees parked, but Cas always parked on the opposite side. Dean wondered if he parked so far away because he smoked weed in his car on his break.

Dean opened the door and exited the car, slamming it behind him and leaning back against it. Cas' face lit up and he waved. Dean waved back, his heart sinking in his chest. He'd give anything to not have to do this.

"Hey," Cas said happily as he got closer. He pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, shaking one out and lighting it.

"Hey. ...How was work?" Dean asked quietly.

Cas shrugged. "Work."

Dean smiled sadly. That was such a Cas answer, the same one he gave Dean _every_ time he asked how work was. But Dean still always asked anyway.

Cas squinted at Dean for a moment as he exhaled a puff of smoke, obviously realizing something was off. "Are you okay?"

"I..." Dean looked away. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay," Cas said, raising one eyebrow. He took another pull off his cigarette, then let his hand fall to his side.

Dean turned his head to look at him again. "Cas..." He reached forward and took his hands, looking down at them in his own. "You know I really like you, right?"

"Yeah...?" Cas responded, his voice laced with confusion. "I should hope so."

Dean swallowed hard, still staring down at Cas' hands, unable to look at his face. He watched the smoke rising from the tip of the cigarette. "I really do. But... I can't do this anymore."

Cas huffed out a small laugh. "...Wait, what?"

Dean bit his lip into his mouth for a moment before letting it pop back out. "I can't do this... with you."

Cas pulled his hands away, forcing Dean to look up. Cas' eyebrows were furrowed together, and his eyes were searching Dean's face.

"What?" he repeated. "Why?"

"Cas," Dean pleaded, already knowing he was losing control of the situation, "I know you're not going to believe this, but it's not you, it's me, _I swear_. Please believe me that it has nothing to do with you."

Cas stared at him in shocked silence for a moment, and then he narrowed his eyes. "Seriously, Dean? You expect me to believe that?" he finally snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dean bit his lip again, looking straight into Cas' eyes. "Yes."

Cas held his gaze for a moment, before lowering his eyes to look down at his shoes and huffing a sigh as his anger dissipated into disappointment. "Can I at least have a reason?" he asked quietly.

Dean sighed. "I just..." Fuck. What is he even supposed to say? "I just realized that I can't really handle a relationship right now." It sounded like bullshit even to his own ears.

Cas looked up as his mouth twisted into a frown. "And you _just_ realized that."

Dean worried his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure of how to respond.

Cas nodded slowly, looking down at his shoes again. "So can we be friends at least?" he asked hesitantly.

"Maybe one day soon," Dean offered. He knew it wasn't a good answer, but unfortunately, continuing to hang out with Cas all the time wouldn't solve the problem. Because Dean _was_ the problem. If he was still going to spend a ton of time with Cas, there wouldn't really be a point in breaking up, would there be?

Cas narrowed his eyes. "So it really has nothing to do with being unable to handle a relationship, right?" He scoffed before Dean could answer, flicking the lengthening ash off of his forgotten cigarette, still unable to look at Dean. "Whatever."

"Please believe me that it's not your fault," Dean pleaded. He could see Cas' eyes watering under the street lights, and he wanted nothing more than to pull him into his arms and comfort him, but he couldn't. Not anymore.

"Whatever," Cas said again. He brought his cigarette up to his lips and took a long drag, looking over at the dark building. "I don't know why I thought you were different."

"Cas-"

Cas cut him off with a wave of his hand, turning around to walk towards his car. "Goodbye, Dean."

"Bye, Cas," Dean said softly, but he doubted Cas even heard him. He watched Cas' back as he walked away, his own eyes beginning to sting. He watched as Cas fumbled with his keys before finally unlocking the door and climbing into the car. Then he sighed, getting into the Impala, starting her up, and slowly pulling off.

* * *

Cas watched the Impala pull away in his rear view mirror. He turned his head, and when the black car rounded the corner of the building, he sucked in a breath and finally let himself cry.

God, he felt so fucking _stupid_. He'd had such a good time getting to know Dean over the past three months. He'd been able to let his guard down, be himself, and he knew now that that was obviously a mistake. Fuck, he'd even thought he was falling in love with him. And then Dean showed up at his god damn job to dump him in the parking lot, feeding him that fucking _it's not you, it's me_ line... like Cas was stupid enough to believe that shit.

He knew he had his problems. He was lazy, and unmotivated; he was rapidly approaching thirty and still lived with his parents. He was overweight and smoked too much weed, but he thought he finally found someone who liked him anyway, despite all of his flaws. Or at least maybe someone who, instead of running, would want to stick around and help him better himself. That was how love was supposed to work, right?

But he figured now that he was wrong. That, or Dean just didn't feel the same way about him as he did. He tossed his burnt-down cigarette butt out the window and lit a fresh one, sniffling deeply and bringing his free hand up to wipe his face. Whatever. He'd get over it. It's not like it hadn't happened before.

He glanced up and saw that the parking lot was empty. All of his co-workers were gone, so he leaned over and popped open the glove box, grabbing his bag of weed and his pack of rolling papers. He rolled a joint and smoked it quickly, trying to calm his nerves before he went home. As the joint burned down between his fingers, he could feel and hear his stomach growling, so he called the Chinese restaurant down the street and ordered some dinner to eat in the car.

When he walked in the front door at ten, stoned and full but not feeling much better, his parents were sitting in the living room, his mother watching TV and his father reading the newspaper. His face must've been red from wiping at it with his hands, because his mother took one look at him and paused the TV.

"What happened, Castiel?" she asked, but there was no concern in her voice.

"Nothing," he mumbled, crossing the living room quickly.

She was quiet for a moment, and Cas had just reached the hallway, thinking he was in the clear, when she spoke again.

"It's that man, isn't it?"

Cas stopped dead in his tracks. "How-" He cut himself off. "What are you talking about?"

She let out a long sigh, and Cas could feel her eyes boring into the back of his head.

"Contrary to what you may believe, your father and I are not stupid. We know you've been seeing someone."

Cas didn't respond.

"This is what happens, Castiel. It's wrong, and you aren't going to be happy until you find yourself a nice woman."

Cas' hands clenched into fists at his sides, but he still didn't turn around. "Christ, mom, can you just- can we not do this?" he pleaded, his voice shaking.

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain, son," his father said sharply.

Cas took a deep breath, finally turning around to face his parents. His mom was staring at him calmly, and his father was still engrossed in the paper. He could never figure out how his mother could say such hurtful things with such a straight face. "Can you please just let it go?" he asked quietly, struggling to keep his voice even.

Naomi's lips pressed into a thin line as she studied his face. "We'll discuss this tomorrow," she said finally.

"Fine," he said quickly, turning on his heel. "Goodnight."

"Do you want dinner?" she called after him.

"I already ate," he mumbled.

He heard a muttered "Of course" from one of them, and it only served to infuriate him further. It took all of his strength not to slam his bedroom door, but he knew that if he did, it would only make things worse. He lowered himself down onto the edge of his mattress, dropping his head into his hands and choking out a sob.

When he finally looked up, Roger was at the corner of his cage, standing up and sniffing in his direction. Cas reached out and popped open the door to his cage, and Roger immediately jumped out and scurried up his arm and onto his shoulder. He began licking his earlobe, and Cas reached up to scratch him.

He slowly leaned back on the bed, giving Roger time to crawl onto his chest so he didn't fall. The rat then stood up, placing both of his little paws on Cas' mouth and licking the salty tears off of his cheeks.

Cas smiled weakly, scratching Roger's little body with his fingernails. "What would I do without you, Rog?" he asked softly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this update has taken a long time, and I'm SO sorry for that. But I've gotten amazing feedback from you guys (<3) so I decided to add more and make this story longer, so it's taken me longer than I anticipated. (And I have so much crap going on in real life right now, lol.) I also get really bad anxiety about posting anything new EVER, so any time a new chapter is ready I sit on it for a few days freaking out, lol.
> 
> Anyway this chapter is pretty fucked up. It gets pretty real, I'm warning you now.
> 
> the anxiety about posting this is still real so please let me know if you didn't hate it xD
> 
>  **TRIGGER WARNING:** mention of past non-con (not between dean and cas)

Dean knew he would feel horrible, but he had no idea _how_ horrible. He was pretty sure he actually felt worse than when Lisa had dumped _him_ \- and this time _he_ was the one doing the dumping! He hated thinking of it that way, too. _Dumping_ Cas. It sounded so... wrong. He wanted to think of it more as setting Cas free, so he could be with someone who he didn't have to change himself for.

But as he replayed the conversation in the parking lot in his head, it didn't seem that way at all.

He'd stumbled through a generic, bullshit excuse and Cas hadn't bought it at all. He was upset. He was angry. And although Dean really, really hoped he wouldn't- he was probably taking it personally. Is there even any other way to take a break-up? Even to this day he was pretty sure it was his fault Lisa had ended it. There wasn't someone else, they didn't argue over anything- it was just who he was as a person. They didn't fit. And while it wasn't his fault, it had sure felt that way.

He hated that he was allowing Cas to feel the same way, but he just couldn't tell him the real reason. He couldn't. And Cas was a better person than him, anyway. He'd bounce back quickly and find someone fun his own age and wonder what he'd ever seen in Dean in the first place... right?

* * *

Cas didn't have to be at work until nine the next morning, but he set his alarm for five-thirty. He was definitely not a morning person, so when the alarm began blaring from his nightstand, he had to force himself to sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the mattress. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, ignoring the ache behind them and the pounding under his skull, he reached forward and popped the door to Roger's cage open.

He interacted with Roger for a little while before leaving him to explore alone as Cas got dressed. When he heard his mom get up at six-thirty and start the shower, he put him back and put some fresh food in his bowl. Cracking his door open and poking his head out, he could see that the hallway was empty. He tiptoed over the carpet and through the living room, and once he closed the front door behind him, he darted to his car, yanking the door open and practically falling in. He jammed the key into the ignition, threw it in reverse, and was gone before his parents were any the wiser.

He knew he couldn't avoid the confrontation forever- it was a miracle that he'd gotten out of it the night before. Part of him wished it was because his mother had known how upset he really was, but he knew that wasn't true. Gay sex was nothing but lustful to her; two men couldn't be in _love_. In reality, she probably just hadn't thought of enough fucked up things to say to him yet. Or, and this was more likely, she was simply enjoying making Cas squirm as he waited for the explosion.

With a sigh, he reached across the car to grab his pack of cigarettes off of the seat. He lit one and inhaled deeply, savoring the taste after going all night without a cigarette, before reaching down to turn on the radio. _I Wanna Know What Love Is_ began playing, and Cas muttered, "Of course," before smacking his turn signal with a little too much force and taking a quick right.

He ended up at the local park. He still had two hours to kill before work, so he figured finding a deserted spot and getting stoned would be a good way to pass the time. It was also conveniently located five minutes from a McDonald's, and since he'd skipped breakfast and was about to smoke, he was definitely going to need to eat before work.

Work dragged on. On his breaks, he found himself constantly wanting to text Dean as he usually did. Kevin cornered him in the breakroom when he clocked out at four, asking him if he was alright.

"Fine," Cas answered quickly. "Just got into an argument with my mom this morning."

Kevin nodded, still watching him suspiciously, but Cas wasn't ready to say anything yet. That was one of the worst parts of a break-up- telling your friends and being showered with sympathy and _"fuck him"_ s, and Cas really didn't want to deal with any of it. He just wanted to forget about it. He said goodbye before making a hasty retreat out of the building and to his car, where he rolled a joint and smoked it on the drive back home. He was dreading seeing his parents, but he knew he didn't have a choice.

They were nowhere to be seen when he walked in, so he went straight to his room and closed the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, he stripped out of his work clothes and grabbed his towel off of the back of his door. He wrapped it around his waist and opened his door again, only to be face-to-face with Naomi.

Her eyes trailed down his body to the towel, and back up to his face again, and Cas could just _feel_ the disgust in her gaze. He averted his eyes so he wouldn't have to see it.

"Dinner's at six," she said sharply.

"Okay," he mumbled. She turned and left, disappearing around the corner into the living room. Cas trudged into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He hung his towel on the hook and started the water, trying not to think about the way she'd looked at him. He _hated_ when she looked at him that way- like he was a complete and utter disappointment. It made him feel so small and insignificant; the complete opposite of the way Dean looked at him.

He closed his eyes and chastised himself for thinking about Dean. That ship had sailed- it was time to move on.

When he sat down at the dinner table, there was an odd silence settled over the room. He wasn't stupid; it was the calm before the storm and he knew it. So he kept his head down and didn't say a word as his mom fixed his plate. She'd stopped letting him fix his own years ago, claiming he "took too much". Cas wasn't sure how that was possible, considering it was always disgusting and he'd wanted to eat as little of her cooking as possible, but it was easier to just let her have her way.

He'd only choked down three bites of the mystery meat she'd prepared before she cleared her throat. Bart didn't even look up, but Cas did, and she was staring straight at him.

"Castiel."

"...Yes?"

"We need to talk."

He swallowed down what he was pretty sure was very dry meatloaf. "...Okay."

"How long had you been seeing this man?"

Cas looked away. "...Three months."

"Why do you continuously go behind our backs like this? I thought we took care of this!"

He had to choose his next words carefully. "I'm not going behind your back." He raised his eyes to look at her. "You know I'm gay, yet you keep trying to force me to be straight. It's not going to work. It's never going to work."

"Never say never," she said quickly. "You just need to be shown the light."

Cas had to fight to not roll his eyes. Instead he blinked and clenched his jaw. "Why can't you just drop it?"

"Because it's sinful Castiel!" she screeched, causing Cas to flinch at the sudden noise. His father seemed entirely unaffected. "Don't you understand I'm worried about your soul in the afterlife? Do you want to go to Hell?!"

He was pretty sure he was already living in it. "I really don't care," he responded. He struggled to keep his voice even, so it came out flat and strained.

"Do you hear this?" she exclaimed, waving her arm at Cas and looking at Bart. She turned back to Cas, not even realizing that Bart didn't acknowledge her. "You need Jesus, Castiel. Why on Earth the church banned you when you need them now more than ever is beyond me. Oh, right, because they gave you _years_ to change and you refused. You refused to repent and ask for forgiveness."

"Because I haven't done anything wrong!" he yelled, more defensive than he intended.

"Lies! It's wrong and you know it!"

"I don't care!" he shouted back.

She produced a brochure seemingly out of nowhere, slamming it down on the table so hard that the silverware shook. "You're going to go see this doctor."

Cas' eyes widened. "...What?"

She didn't answer, instead holding eye contact with Cas until he broke it to look down at the brochure. A smiling man and woman held hands on the front, and underneath in large blue letters it read: "Reparative Therapy with Dr. Adler - Helping Individuals Return to Normalcy and Godliness"

Cas looked up at her again. "...You can't make me do that again. It- it didn't work."

"This is a different doctor," she said coolly. "He has a much better success rate." She paused, her mouth twisting into a frown. "The other one was obviously too dense to realize that you were just telling him what he wanted to hear for a year."

Cas swallowed. "I... I'm not going," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"I said I'm not going," he said louder.

Naomi actually barked a laugh. "Yes you are, or you can pack your things and leave. Right now."

He considered it for a moment. He wanted to so, so badly. But he could only live in his car for a few more months until it got too cold and- wait, what was he thinking? He couldn't live in his car at all; he had Roger. He lowered his eyes to his plate. "Fine. I'll go."

Even though he was looking down, he knew there was a smug smile on her face as she said, "Good. Your first appointment is next week." She paused. "And I expect you to behave."

* * *

The first appointment came sooner than Cas expected. The waiting room was pretty standard (read: boring); rows of chairs, some religious magazines on the tables, a few paintings of angels, and one potted plant. Cas sat slouched back in a chair by the door, arms crossed and staring across the room at a painting of Michael on the opposite wall until his name was called.

"Castiel?"

Cas turned his head to see a balding older man standing in the entryway to the hallway, hands clasped and hanging limply in front of him. He offered Cas a tight smile. Cas frowned and stood up, crossing the room and following him down the hallway.

"Very nice name," he said, gesturing towards a door and stepping to the side. "Biblical."

Cas didn't respond as he walked past him and into the room. The man followed him, shutting the door behind him.

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing towards an ugly brown couch. He lowered himself into a rolling chair, crossing one leg over the other and wrapping his hands around them.

"My name is Zachariah," he said. "How are you feeling today, Castiel?"

"Fine," Cas answered.

"No... inappropriate desires today?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Are you asking if I find you attractive?" Cas asked, squinting at him suspiciously.

"Excuse me?"

He remembered his mother's words the week before: _"I expect you to behave."_ Behaving wasn't really his forte, though. "Because if I'm being honest, I don't, but I could use a sugar daddy. And you probably make good money here- charging so much money to people desperate to change the unchangeable. It's the perfect scam."

Zachariah stared at him blankly for a moment before breaking into a smile and shaking his head. "Your mother said you were feisty!" he chucked before meeting Cas' eyes. "That's okay though. I like a challenge."

Cas raised one eyebrow. "You're not helping your case," he stated, crossing his arms. "...And I highly doubt my mother described me as _feisty_."

Zachariah just kept giving him that same smile, which was starting to creep Cas out. "You're right. The word she used was _difficult_." He blinked and shook his head slowly. "Anyway, you know that's not what I was asking, Castiel. And your condition isn't unchangeable."

"It's not a _condition_ ," Cas muttered. Zachariah held his hands up in a placating gesture. "And it's _Cas_."

"Okay, Cas. Can I ask you some questions so I can maybe understand you a little better?"

"I suppose."

He reached over to his left and grabbed a clipboard from his desk, setting it on his lap. Pulling a pen out of his pocket, he clicked it and poised it to the paper. "When did you first experience attraction to the same gender?"

Cas crossed his arms, slumping back slightly into the couch. "When I was seven."

" _Seven?_ " he repeated, shooting skeptical glances as he scribbled on the paper.

"Yes."

"And how did you know?"

"Because I had a crush on a kid in my class," he answered simply.

"And?"

"And what? I kept it to myself. I was eight, not stupid."

"What do you mean?"

"I know what you're trying to say. If I thought it was so normal, why did I hide it. I hid it because I already knew how my family felt about it and how my church felt about it. Look, I've done this twice already."

"Can you tell me about the other times?"

Cas sighed. "The first time was a summer camp. Aversion therapy and gender reinforcement. Loads of fun." He paused and blinked slowly. "Second time was with some quack like you."

Zachariah didn't even look offended. "And you feel you got no benefit from either of those therapies?"

"Absolutely not."

"Well hopefully we can change that."

"I don't want to change it," Cas snapped.

Zachariah gave him a leveling look. "Cas, you do understand that you can get the same pleasure from the company of women, correct? There's no need to sin."

Cas narrowed his eyes at him. "I do _not_ want to talk to you about my sex life. And women are disgusting." He paused. "No offense to them, of course, but... no. I'd rather be celibate."

"Now there's an idea," Zachariah said, leaning back in his chair. "You could become a priest. Atone for your sins."

Cas sighed and rolled his eyes. This was _not_ going to be fun.

He left forty-five minutes later, rightfully pissed off. He got into his car and slammed the door, rolling down the window with one hand as he lit a cigarette with the other. Taking a long drag, he told himself what he'd always told himself when he had to do this shit- just regard absolutely everything they say as bullshit. Although, while it was a nice concept, it was easier said than done.

*****

That night, he was sitting on his bed on his laptop when his phone went off with a text from Gabe.

**Gabe: yo**

**Gabe: where u at fucker**

**Cas: What**

**Gabe: what do you mean what**

**Gabe: i asked you a ?**

**Cas: I'm at my house, where else would I be?**

**Gabe: i mean lately. youve been MIA for like a week**

**Gabe: get off deans dick and come hang out**

**Cas: I am not on Dean's dick.**

**Gabe: so where u been?**

**Cas: Home being pathetic.**

**Gabe: ...wat happened**

**Cas: I don't want to talk about it.**

**Gabe: did ur mom say something stupid?**

**Cas: Nothing worse than usual, no.**

**Gabe: did something happen w dean?**

**Cas: I said I didn't want to talk about it.**

**Gabe: i fucking knew it**

**Gabe: what happened?**

**Gabe: i will kill that fucker**

**Cas: Just drop it.**

**Gabe: im not letting u sit home and rot in ur room**

**Gabe: get over here**

**Gabe: ive got booze**

**Gabe: come on cas**

**Gabe: ?**

**Cas: FINE. I'll be there in an hour. And I'm off tomorrow so if I get there and this "booze" is a 12-pack of light beer I'm going to knock you out.**

**Gabe: u rlly should kno me better than that by now**

**Gabe: but i get the hint, u wanna get drunk**

**Gabe: i promise i wont even draw dicks on ur face when u pass out tonite**

**Cas: How kind of you.**

Cas hit the power button on his phone and sighed. At least going over to Gabe's would get him away from Naomi; getting drunk was just a bonus. He shut down his laptop and plugged his phone into the charger, then stood up and stripped out of his work clothes before putting Roger back in his cage so he could take a shower.

Once he was dressed, he went out into the living room. Bartholomew was in his recliner, watching the evening news, and he could hear his mom making noise in the kitchen. Without a word to his father, he crossed the living room to stand in the doorway to the kitchen.

Naomi had her back to him, stirring something on the stove. It smelled like whatever she was cooking in the oven was burning. He cleared his throat. "I'm going out for the night."

She turned around, eyeing him suspiciously. "Where?"

"Gabe's."

"Oh, good," she said, turning back around. "Maybe there will be some nice girls there."

"He's not having a party," Cas said flatly. "We're just going to play some video games."

"Oh," she said again, although she sounded somewhat disappointed. "Okay then. Are you off tomorrow?"

"Yes. So I'm not sure when I'll be home."

"You know I like to know when to expect you."

"Late afternoon, maybe? I don't know."

"Yep." It was short and cold, and as usual, Cas couldn't figure out what he'd done to warrant such a change of tone.

"Okay," he said, taking a step back into the living room. "See you tomorrow."

"Wait," she said quickly, turning around. "How did your appointment go?"

"Uh- great," Cas answered. Naomi narrowed her eyes at him, and Cas swallowed and lowered his eyes.

"Good," she said finally. "See you tomorrow."

"Okay." He turned and exited the kitchen. "Bye, dad," he said quickly on his way to the door, and he got a grunt in acknowledgment. As he closed the front door behind him, he leaned back against it and let out a deep sigh. He hated walking on eggshells in his own house, but his mom had been a nightmare in the week since she'd confronted him about seeing a man.

When he got to Gabe's, he stood on the doorstep, eyes on his shoes as he waited for him to answer the door.

"Cassie!"Gabe said loudly as he opened the door, stepping over the threshold and squeezing Cas in a tight hug. Cas just stood there, arms dangling limply at his sides, until Gabe let go. "Come in, come in," he said, taking a step back.

Cas stepped in the doorway and looked up, stopping short as Gabe closed the door behind him. Gabe's mother was sitting on the couch, watching a cooking show on the television mounted to the wall.

"Hello."

She turned around and smiled. "Hi, Cas. How are you?"

He mustered a smile. "Good, how are you?"

"I'm good, thank you." She turned back around just as the man on TV was putting what looked like some sort of roast into the oven. It looked better than anything his mom had ever made, and when Cas' eyes finally left the screen, Gabe was already ascending the stairs, so Cas hurried across the living room and followed him up to his room.

"What happened?" Gabe asked as he closed the door behind Cas. He made his way to his bed and flopped down on his back as Cas took a seat on the futon.

Cas shrugged. "I don't know. We broke up."

Gabe propped himself up on his elbows and raised one eyebrow. "You _don't know_?"

Cas fidgeted. "Well... he said he couldn't handle a relationship right now."

Gabe scoffed. "Sounds like a cop-out."

Cas frowned. "I know. He seemed sincere and I really want to believe him, but..." His shoulders sagged and he lowered his eyes, unable to look at Gabe. "He probably just didn't want to hurt my feelings."

"Yeah, well..." Gabe grumbled, pushing himself off of the bed. "He did." He grabbed a bottle of whiskey off of the top of his dresser and stepped towards Cas, holding it out to him.

"Thanks," Cas mumbled, taking it from him and cracking it open. He took a large swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before stating, "You didn't tell me your parents were home."

Gabe shrugged. "Didn't think it mattered." He paused, watching Cas. "Why? Did you think I was having another party?"

Cas shrugged lightly, looking down at the bottle in his grip.

"I would've told you. Besides... getting fucked isn't the solution to your problem."

Cas squinted down at the label, picking at the corner with his thumb as his face burned. "I didn't say it was."

"Mhmm," Gabe hummed, reaching out and taking the bottle from Cas. He took a small gulp before handing it back. "But usually you don't want to party after a break-up, you want to drink alone, so..."

"I never said I was hoping you were having a party, Gabe, Jesus," Cas sighed, lifting his head and dropping it back against the back of the futon.

"Okay, okay," Gabe resigned, holding his hands up in surrender. He sat back down on the bed and pulled open the drawer to his night stand. He began packing a bowl on the surface as Cas took another swig of whiskey. "So... that's all he said?" he asked carefully, glancing over at Cas.

"Yes."

"So why can't you stay friends?"

Cas shrugged again, clearly trying to act like he wasn't bothered. "That's what I said."

Gabe frowned, turning his attention back to the bowl. "I dunno, man," he said, bringing it to his lips and lighting it. "But it sounds like bullshit," he finished, voice strained from holding in the hit. He exhaled, creating a large cloud of smoke that dissipated as it floated towards the ceiling. He reached forward and held the bowl out to Cas. "Here."

Cas lifted his head and set the bottle of whiskey down on the futon to take it from him. "I know," he agreed. "So all I can really do is just let it go, I guess."

"Easier said than done," Gabe said thoughtfully as Cas took his hit.

"Yep," Cas muttered, passing the bowl back to him. "I just..." He exhaled as he leaned back into the couch. "I'm tired of doing this, Gabe."

"You need to stop looking for the one, man. Just do your thing and it'll happen. You're trying too hard."

"I'm _trying too hard_?" Cas repeated in disbelief. "I didn't do shit! He asked _me_ out."

Gabe sat up and shot him a leveling look. "So you're saying you thought Dean was the one."

"I just-" Cas cut himself off, looking down and crossing his arms over his chest. "What? No. Don't put words in my mouth. I'm just saying I'm tired of casual sex. I'm almost thirty for fuck's sake."

"Ugh, stop," Gabe muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I'm serious. We're not kids anymore. Seventeen was a decade ago." He paused, looking up and squinting off across the room. "Maybe that's what it was. Maybe he gave me a chance despite my age, but once he got to know me he thought I was immature."

"I would think you're the most mature out of any of us. 'Cept Kevin. And Hannah doesn't count because she's just got a stick up her ass. That ain't maturity."

"Yeah but... he's thirty-four. I'm stressing about hitting thirty and his next milestone is forty. He probably doesn't want someone who can't even fucking support themselves." He lowered his head into his hands and let out a long groan. "God dammit."

Gabe sat up. "Stop being so hard on yourself, man. So it didn't work out. It's not the end of the world."

"I know it's not."

"Are you going to hit that?"

Cas looked down at the forgotten bowl in his lap. He wasn't even sure when Gabe had passed it to him. He brought it to his lips, lighting it and taking a long pull before passing it back to Gabe.

"He probably just didn't think you guys were right for each other and didn't want to hurt your feelings."

Cas sighed, picking the bottle back up off the couch and unscrewing the top. "I guess... And I can't really be mad at him for that I suppose."

Gabe didn't answer, instead bringing the pipe to his mouth for another hit.

* * *

Dean was lying face-down on his bed when his phone went off with a text from Charlie.

**Charlie: why have you been avoiding me for the past week?**

**Dean: what do you mean**

**Charlie: you've been blowing me off and you haven't responded to a single meme I tagged you in on FB**

**Dean: i just dont feel like hanging out**

**Dean: and i havent been on facebook**

**Charlie: bullshit**

**Charlie: tell me what happened.**

Dean let out a long sigh. He couldn't hide shit from Charlie- never could. So he typed out his response and waited for the shitstorm.

**Dean: i broke up with cas**

**Charlie: WHAT?! WHY?**

**Dean: because i gained like 15 pounds**

**Charlie: oookay... not good, but what the hell does that have to do with cas?**

**Charlie: do you think he cares? it's not like he's fucking skinny**

**Dean: its not about that**

**Dean: his eating habits were horrendous. not that i care but it was rubbing off on me constantly hanging out with him. i couldnt do it charlie**

**Charlie: did you try asking him not to bring that kind of food around you?**

**Dean: no**

**Charlie: oh my god**

**Dean: what? dont you think he wouldve been a little insulted if i said that?**

**Charlie: you didn't fucking tell him you had surgery did you**

**Dean: ...no**

**Charlie: WHAT THE FUCK DEAN**

**Dean: im tired of everybody fucking knowing!**

**Dean: its still embarrassing you know**

**Dean: look, i dont want to talk about it**

**Charlie: don't make me fucking come over there**

**Dean: knock it off**

**Charlie: dean you were super happy with cas**

**Charlie: and now you're miserable**

**Charlie: do the fucking math**

**Dean: ok, so, what? i should've stayed with cas and been a fucking whale again? im sure he would just love that**

**Dean: 15 pounds in 3 months is 60 pounds in a year. YOU do the math**

**Charlie: you can't just leave him hanging like that, dean. it's not right. he's really nice.**

**Dean: i didnt have a choice and you know it**

**Charlie: you're so full of shit**

**Charlie: i'm going to msg him on FB. he deserves to know.**

**Dean: dont you fucking dare**

**Charlie: he's my friend now too dean!**

**Dean: charlie im serious. have some fucking respect for my privacy and leave it the fuck alone.**

**Charlie: fine.**

**Charlie: asshole.**

**Dean: whatever**

She was right, though. He was miserable. (And he was an asshole.) He needed to get his mind off of Cas- off of the guilt of hurting him, off of how badly he missed him. Back in the day, when he felt like shit, he'd order a fucking pizza. That wasn't an option anymore, but he could always go for the next best unhealthy coping mechanism- alcohol. He'd already been working on a bottle each night after work for the past week, but sitting on the couch and getting drunk in his boxers wasn't exactly helping him to feel better. He needed to try something else.

It was only ten, and he was off the next day, so he rose out of bed and got dressed. He'd already dropped five of the extra pounds he'd put on (which was definitely more than was healthy to lose in a little over a week), and he figured some random drunk girl at the bar wouldn't care about an extra ten pounds. A few drinks in him, and he probably wouldn't care anymore either.

He said goodbye to Floyd, locked up the house, and drove out to the nearest bar. He'd gone there a few times over the years, but not often enough to really know anybody there. Because of the surgery, he had a pretty low tolerance- he didn't need much to feel it and it hit him much faster, so he tried to take solace in the fact that he at least wouldn't have to spend a lot of money. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of whiskey, drained it, and then ordered a beer.

He turned in his seat to scan the bar. There were a bunch of guys surrounding the pool table, half-way through a game, and a few people sitting around at some tables. Def Leppard was playing from a jukebox somewhere, barely audible over the din of voices and laughter. He leaned his elbows back on the bar and sipped his beer, watching the group playing pool. A woman to the right caught his eye, and she quickly turned away and began giggling amongst her friends.

He fucking hated that. He never knew, when people laughed, if they were laughing _at_ him. He figured these days there was really no reason to, but it still sat in the back of his mind, warring with his confidence and making him feel even shittier than he already did. He took another swig of his beer, already feeling buzzed, and turned back around to face the bar. Maybe this wasn't a great idea. His thoughts drifted to Cas, and not for the first time in the last week he felt like he'd made a terrible mistake.

About ten minutes passed and another whiskey forced down before there was a tap on his shoulder. He looked over and the same girl, a tall, fair-skinned woman with black hair, was standing beside him.

"Hey," she said, giving him a wide smile. She had blue eyes, and that combined with the dark hair and fair skin kind of reminded him of Cas. Not a good thing- not tonight, and probably not ever.

"Hey," he said back.

"How come you're here all alone?" she asked, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

He gave her a light shrug, lifting his beer slightly. "Just wanted a drink."

"Would you like some company?"

"Sure."

She slid herself onto the seat next to him and looked towards the rows of alcohol, tapping her fingernails on the counter.

"Would you like a drink?"

She smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

"What do you want?"

"Hmm... A mojito."

Dean met the bartender's eye, and he made his way over as Dean downed the last of his beer.

"A whiskey, neat, and a mojito for the lady, please."

"You got it," he answered gruffly. He refilled Dean's glass, took his empty bottle, and turned around to prepare the mojito.

"So what's your name?" she asked, fiddling with a piece of her hair.

Dean tapped his fingers along the edge of his fresh glass of whiskey. "Dean."

"I'm Tessa," she said.

Dean glanced over at her. "What brings you here tonight, Tessa?"

She shrugged as the bartender set her drink on the counter in front of her. "Just lookin' for some fun."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, feeling the alcohol really starting to creep up on him. "And is that what brought you over here?"

She smiled and nodded.

A half-grin slowly spread across his face. "I think I can probably help with that." If he was being honest with himself, he'd prefer a guy, but picking up a girl was just... easier. He wasn't trying to accidentally hit on a straight guy and get punched in the face. There was also no guessing who would top and who would bottom with girls.

"I was hoping you could," she said simply, taking a sip of her drink and smirking around the straw.

He leaned forward to speak into her ear. "Where to?"

"You got a car?"

He pulled back and nodded. She swallowed another sip of her drink and set it down on the counter, just as a female voice sounded off from across the bar.

"Dean Michael Winchester!"

Recognizing the voice instantly, Dean dropped his head and closed his eyes, letting out an annoyed groan. "Jesus christ..."

Charlie stormed across the bar and right up to him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

Dean was definitely feeling the alcohol, and he was in no mood for Charlie's shenanigans. "I'm trying to get laid, Charlie, what the fuck does it look like?" he grumbled.

"You are such an asshole, Dean," Charlie muttered.

"Um... is this your girlfriend or something?" Tessa asked, eyes wide as they flicked back and forth between the two.

Charlie scoffed. " _No_. I'm gay."

"Oh really?" Tessa asked, picking her drink back up and taking a sip as she eyed Charlie up and down.

The once-over didn't escape Charlie's notice. "Hold that thought," she said, smiling slightly, before turning narrowed eyes back onto Dean. "Do you really think this will help you get over Cas?"

"There's nothing to get over, Charlie," Dean said dismissively, avoiding her eyes. " _I_ ended it. Just leave it alone."

"No. You're being stupid," Charlie said, crossing her arms across her chest.

"You know what? So what?" Dean snapped. "Am I not allowed to be a little fucking stupid once in a while? _God_."

"Yeah, you are, but not when other people's feelings are involved. He was my friend, too, and now I can't even message him and hang out with him because he's going to want to know why you dumped him. And you won't let me tell him."

"Jesus Charlie," Dean huffed, narrowing his eyes down at his drink. "We went out for three months and you only knew him for one. You guys hung out like four times. It's not the end of the world."

"He's a really nice guy," Charlie insisted, "And what you did was wrong."

Dean let his head drop down onto the arm holding his empty glass. "Okay, Charlie," he groaned. "I get it. I'm an asshole. Can you just leave me alone now?"

She sighed, visibly deflating, and glanced over at Tessa, who smiled and winked at her.

"Fine," she said to Dean. "But I'm stealing your girl and you're going home in a cab."

"'N' you say _I'm_ an asshole," Dean grumbled into his arm.

"Save it, Dean," she muttered, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him to his feet. "Now pay the nice bartender."

Dean retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and slapped some money onto the counter, grumbling the entire time as Charlie called a cab.

"I'll be right back," she said politely as she pocketed her cellphone.

Tessa nodded and took another sip of her drink. "Nice to meet you, Dean."

"Likewise," he muttered as he allowed Charlie to pull him away.

"And thanks for the drink!" she called after them.

As they waited on the sidewalk for the cab, Dean leaning against a streetlight, Charlie placed her hands on her hips. "One night stands, Dean? This isn't like you." She squinted at Dean. "Very... OOC."

Dean rolled his eyes at her. Using roleplaying language in regular conversation- she was such a nerd. "Yeah, well, 'parently whatever I've been doin' isn't working," he said flatly, staring down at his boots.

"You need to call Cas and apologize," Charlie said simply.

"Oh please," Dean sighed, rolling his eyes again. "Like he's gonna forgive me for dumpin' him at his job without so much as an explanation."

"You dumped him _at work_?" Charlie screeched.

Dean winced. "Well, in the parkin' lot... after he got off."

"Who _are_ you?" Charlie asked, incredulous. "Don't you remember how you felt when Lisa dumped you over a text message while you were at work?"

Dean looked away. "Yes." But what was he supposed to do? Invite Cas over and _then_ tell him, so that Cas would have had to feel unwelcome and do the walk of shame out the front door and to his car? He wasn't _completely_ heartless; he'd tried to put _some_ thought into it.

Charlie turned her head to see the cab approaching. She turned back to Dean and let out a heavy sigh. "Go home and go to sleep. I'll come over in the morning and we'll come get the Impala."

"Yeah," Dean mumbled, yanking open the door to the cab as it came to a stop. "Okay."

As the cab pulled away, Charlie waved, but Dean didn't notice. He stared out the window, forehead pressed to the glass, the ride silent. Floyd greeted him with a wagging tail when he walked in the front door, licking at his hand.

"Not in the mood, buddy," Dean mumbled, locking the door behind him and heading straight for the bedroom. Floyd followed him, jumping up onto the bed and lying down to wait for Dean.

Dean stripped out of his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and walked naked to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He avoided looking in the mirror, absolutely ashamed of himself for what he'd done to Cas.

He wanted to make it right, he really did. But he couldn't expect Cas to forgive him. If it had been the other way around, he probably wouldn't.

*****

He woke up the next morning to his phone ringing non-stop. He blindly fumbled around for it on the night stand, and once he found it he squinted at the screen. His vision was still too blurry to read the text, but Charlie's picture was on the screen. He tapped answer and brought it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Wake up, drunkie," she said cheerfully.

"Ugh, what time is it?" he asked groggily.

"Ten."

"What do you want?"

"I'm on my way over there."

Dean groaned, dropping his head back onto the pillow. "I still have to cook breakfast and walk Floyd."

"Put him out back and get cookin'."

"Absolutely not. I'm not skipping anymore walks."

"It's not the end of the world, Dean."

"Did you not hear what I told you yesterday?" Dean asked irritably as he rolled over onto his back. "Fifteen pounds, Charlie."

"What I said still stands."

Dean sighed in resignation, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. "Fine." He would just have to take Floyd for a longer walk later to make up for it.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," she said cheerfully and hung up before he could respond.

Charlie let herself in twenty-five minutes later. She opened the front door to find Dean leaning back against the kitchen counter in a sleep shirt and boxers, arms crossed over his chest.

"Morning."

Dean's frown turned into a scowl. "What's so good about it?"

Charlie dropped her bag onto the kitchen table and came to a stop in front of him, crossing her arms. "I didn't say it was good."

Dean looked away, grumbling something under his breath. Just as he did so, a piece of toast popped up from the toaster. He grabbed it and dropped it onto a plate that was set out on the counter, then picked it up and turned around to face Charlie again.

"Dry toast, Dean? Really?"

"Fift-"

"Stop," Charlie said quickly, swiping one hand through the air in front of her. Dean closed his mouth and blinked. "It's only fifteen pounds! You're still letting food and your weight control your life."

Dean grabbed the toast from the plate and took an aggressive bite. "So? The surgery only lasts like five years, Charlie. I can't just undo everyth-"

"No one said you'll be undoing everything," she interrupted. "You just need to be honest with Cas and give him a chance to make his own decisions."

Dean swallowed hard, forcing the large bite of dry toast down his throat. "So I should expect him to change just 'cause I have no fucking self-control?" he rasped.

"You don't have to expect anything from him. But you owe it to him to let him make that decision for himself. Maybe he would _want_ to change."

Dean licked a stray crumb from the corner of his mouth as he looked away. "...You're right."

Charlie's shoulders sagged and she sighed. "I think you should go back to Missouri."

Dean took another bite of his toast, not meeting Charlie's eyes. "I dunno."

"Why not?"

Dean shrugged. "It's been over five years," he said quietly.

"And maybe it's time to work through some shit."

"I saw her for like seven years," he said with a frown. "I worked through plenty."

"Apparently not enough."

"...I guess," Dean conceded, setting the plate with his unfinished toast down on the counter. "How was your night with Tessa?" he asked, desperate to change the subject as he retrieved the orange juice from the fridge.

"Amazing. We fucked and then ate ice cream and watched Star Wars."

Dean snorted a laugh as he poured his glass. "Wow. Lesbian sex, huh?"

"Who says two guys can't eat ice cream and watch Star Wars after sex?"

Dean shrugged. "No one, but there's like, a zero percent chance you'll do that with a random hook-up."

"Oh, and you would know?" Charlie teased. "Because you're _such_ a man-whore, and you've had _so_ many one-night-stands?"

Dean frowned. "You got me there." He took a sip or his orange juice. "Maybe I'd have had more if you didn't keep stealing them, though."

"That was only one time!" she exclaimed. "Okay, two including last night."

"Two times you cockblocked me," Dean said sadly, shaking his head.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Shut up. You know how much shit I probably missed in high school because I was hanging out with you instead?" she said lightly.

Dean furrowed his brows. "Ouch."

"Oh," she said quickly, "I didn't mean it like that Dean, I swear!"

Dean nodded. "I know."

"I'm sorry," she whined, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist. She pressed her face into his chest. "I loved hanging out with you."

"Thank you."

She squeezed him in her arms. "You were so _squishy_ back then. Now you've got muscles."

"Yep," he said nonchalantly, reaching behind him to set his glass of orange juice down on the counter. "That's why now I can do _this_!" he said quickly, gripping her waist tightly and scooping her up. She squealed as he hoisted her over his shoulder and started walking across the kitchen.

"Put me down!" she pushed out through her laughter.

He walked up to the back of the couch and tossed her over it, depositing her onto the cushions. She landed with an _"Oof!"_

"Now, you're going to sit here and watch TV with me today," he said, straightening up, "as punishment for stealing Tessa _and_ bringing up high school all within twenty-four hours."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled fondly at him. "Fine."

* * *

_August_

The next week, Cas left his second appointment with Zachariah feeling a mixture of things. Mostly, he was angry, but a part of him also felt a little wrong, which in turn just made him feel stupid. He knew everything the conversion therapists said was bullshit- but he also knew that the longer he kept going to the appointments, the worse he would feel. And all the things said in sessions like those always reminded Cas of that first time he'd had to go through conversion therapy- at the summer camp his parents sent him to when he was fourteen. He _definitely_ didn't want to think about that.

He had to be at work anyway, so he rolled a joint in a gas station parking lot and drove around in circles to kill some time and avoid being seen while he smoked it. He'd just tossed it out the window, made it back into the main part of town, and lit a cigarette when he noticed a familiar vehicle pulling up next to him out of the corner of his eye.

*****

Dean was slowing to stop at a red light when he saw it. That fucking Lincoln with the god damn gold paint job.

He'd offered to grab lunch for everyone at the shop because he needed to get out of there for a little while. As he pulled up to one of the many intersections of the town's main strip, he saw the Lincoln front and center in the next lane over. There was no one ahead of Dean, so he was set up to pull up right next to Cas, and there was no way to avoid it.

As he pulled up, he heard the same radio station he was listening to coming from Cas' speakers, both front windows rolled down.

 _Everybody plays the fool, sometime_  
_No exception to the rule_  
_It may be factual, may be cruel, sometime_  
_But everybody plays the fool_

He glanced over as he came to a stop. Cas was wearing his blue PetSmart shirt, so he was either on his way to or from work. Cas looked over as well, his face falling as he noticed Dean. He steeled his expression and turned his head to face forward again. Dean watched as he took a drag from his cigarette, staring forward, until finally he accidentally hit the gas a little too hard, his entire body jerking back lightly as the car lurched forward. Dean looked up to see the light was green, and he pressed the gas as well, although he went much slower to avoid catching up with Cas.

He didn't know Cas listened to oldies. Of course he didn't, though, because he really didn't know much at all about Cas. He'd only known him for three months, and then he'd cut their time short like an idiot.

The radio had already switched to another song, and as he came back to reality, he felt horrible knowing Cas was listening to those same lyrics.

 _You can't hurry love_  
_No, you just have to wait_  
_You got to trust, give it time_  
_No matter how long it takes_

 _But how many heartaches m_ _ust I stand  
_ _Before I find a love t_ _o let me live again?_

Maybe he was being dumb. Maybe Cas was over him already, and the sappy songs on the radio didn't bother him in the slightest, and he had only refused to look at Dean because Dean was a douche.

He let out a heavy sigh, flicking his blinker to take the turn to the deli his coworkers had ordered lunch from. He knew the longer he waited, the less chance he had of ever being with Cas again, but he had no idea what to even say to him. Should he call him? What would he say first? If Cas didn't answer, what could he possibly say in a voicemail to get Cas to call him back? Probably nothing. Cas was pissed off, and rightfully so. He wouldn't even look at him. Dean didn't deserve a second chance.

His appointment with Missouri was a week away, and while he was nervous as hell, he hoped she could help him figure out what the fuck to do.

*****

 _Seriously?_ Today of all days, when he felt like shit and was high as fuck, he had to see Dean for the first time in two weeks? And Dean kept _looking_ at him. Why was he looking at him? If he wanted to look at him, why'd he dump him? Okay, that was stupid. He _did_ say that they could be friends eventually. But it had been two weeks without a single word from him, so that was probably bullshit anyway.

He'd hit the gas a little too hard when the light turned green, and made himself look like an idiot. Great. By the time he got to work, his high was dead and he was in a foul mood. The only customers he could manage to fake it for were the dogs, but at least they seemed to appreciate the effort.

That night, things didn't get better. Work was so slow that they sent him home early, which cut into his pay and meant he had to suffer through dinner with his parents. His mother argued with him over his therapy sessions between pouring herself glasses of wine. Apparently Zachariah had called to inform Naomi that Cas was very uncooperative.

Cas had gaped at how that surely had to be a violation of HIPAA, but Naomi brushed it off, saying she was paying for the sessions and deserved to know if he was wasting her money or not.

"You're wasting your money anyway," Cas had said. "It's impossible to turn me straight, no matter how hard I or anyone else tries."

After that she'd sent him to his room like a fucking child, and he'd gone, leaving half of his shitty dinner, because he couldn't stand to look at her or his damn impassive father anymore.

Around midnight, he poked his head out of his door and squinted down the dark hallway. His parents door was closed, and he hadn't heard a peep from his mother in at least an hour. Considering the hour, and the copious amount of wine she'd imbibed over the course of the evening, he was pretty sure she was asleep.

He went into the kitchen and opened the pantry, pulling out a box of macaroni and cheese. Setting the box down on the counter, he carefully pulled a pot down from the cabinet and filled it with water. He set it down on the burner a little too hard, and he winced as it made a loud _clack_. He turned the burner on and ripped open the top to the box, fishing around inside for a piece of macaroni. He pulled one out and held it up to Roger, who was perched on his shoulder. The rat quickly grabbed the uncooked pasta and began munching on it.

The hall light flicked on behind him, and he spun around. Nobody came, though, so whoever it was was probably in the bathroom. He'd left the kitchen light off, so as long as he didn't make any noise, they'd probably go right back to bed.

He turned back around and stared down at the pot of water, scratching Roger behind the ears and waiting for it to boil. He wasn't sure how long he was standing there before he heard his mother's voice behind him.

"What're you doing?"

She was wasted; he could hear in her voice. "Cooking," he answered without turning around.

"We just ate dinner."

Cas glanced at the clock on the stove. It was almost midnight, and he'd choked down half of her disgusting dinner at 6:30. "That was over five hours ago, mom."

"So? You really need another meal? You should be in bed."

He rolled his eyes, only because he wasn't facing her. "You should be, too."

"Is- _WHY_ is that thing in my kitchen?!"

 _Shit._ He'd completely forgotten about Roger. "I- I'm sorry, I forgot-"

"You _forgot_ I don't want a _rat_ in my kitchen?"

"We were just hanging out and I came out here and forgot-"

She crossed the room and came to stand next to him. "Hanging out? With a rat?" She leaned her head back, looking up at the ceiling and crying, "Oh, why is my son like this?"

God, he hated how _dramatic_ she was, especially when she was drunk. "Mom, stop."

She looked down at the pot of water, which was beginning to bubble. She stared at it blankly for nearly half a minute before mumbling, "You are so full of sin, Castiel."

"Why? Because I like food? I've got nothing on your love of wine."

"Wine is the blood of christ," she said quickly. "And I don't just mean your gluttony. You just ooze sin. Gluttony, sloth, pride, _lust_. You wonder why I drink- look what you do to me, Castiel." She held her hand out, and it was trembling. "You stress me so."

Cas was pretty sure that was the excessive amount of alcohol she'd been ingesting for as long as he could remember, but he wasn't going to push the subject. He looked up from her hand to meet her eyes. "Why do you care so much? Worry about your own sin."

"Don't you get it?" she said loudly. "As your mother my one job is to keep you on the right path! Don't you understand? I'm a failure! I have failed with you in every way possible. A mother's one job and I couldn't even do that right. And it's my fault. This is my punishment. To spend eternity knowing my son is going to Hell."

Fuck, that hurt. He thought he was a pretty good person, but apparently she saw being gay as such a fatal flaw that she considered herself a failure as a mother. Ouch. "I think you should go to bed," he muttered.

Her eyes traveled to the pot of water, which was now boiling. She reached over to grab it, but Cas beat her to it, grabbing the handles and pressing it down against the burner. He didn't want her to spill it and burn herself; the last thing he wanted was to drive his intoxicated mother to the ER at midnight. She tried to wrap her fingers around Cas' and lift it, but he was stronger than her.

"Stop-"

"Give me the pot, Castiel," she slurred, pushing her shoulder into his a bit.

"Stop- st-" he tried, but she kept shoving her shoulder into his. "Okay- _okay_ , fine- just STOP," he snapped. "I'll do it. You're drunk and you're going to burn yourself." She still didn't stop though, and Cas had to push against her harder. "MOM-"

She pushed into him again, and Cas felt the weight on his opposite shoulder disappear. It seemed like it happened in slow-motion- he could see a blur of fur as Roger hurtled towards the water, and he shoved his right shoulder into his mom, knocking her further down the counter. He could feel a "NO!" ripping from his throat but he didn't hear it. He swiped his left hand out over the top of the pot, clamping his fingers shut around Rogers body so tightly the rat squeaked, and bringing him to his chest in one fluid motion.

Roger didn't squirm or try to get away, just allowed Cas to press him into his chest, and Cas could feel his own heart hammering beneath his rib cage. Roger almost just _died_. Roger was almost just fucking _boiled alive_.

He could see his mothers wide eyes in his peripheral vision. Apparently, even in her drunken stupor, she knew Cas was about to explode.

She opened her mouth, attempting to slur an apology. "If- If he wasn't in the kitch-"

Cas turned on her, teeth bared as he shouted, "Just go back to fucking bed!"

She took a step back but didn't leave, seemingly waiting for Cas to say something else. When he didn't, only closed his eyes and reached a shaking hand up to stroke a thumb down Roger's back, she retreated back into the hallway, mumbling about how she told Cas his rats weren't allowed out of his room. It took _everything_ Cas had in him to ignore her.

Cas took a moment to recollect himself, then reached out and clicked off the burner. He dumped the boiling water into the sink and put the pot back on the burner (as it was too hot to put in the dish drain), and he put the opened box of macaroni back in the pantry. Shuffling out of the kitchen and into the hallway, he shut off the light his mother had left on and shut himself back in his room. Once inside, he turned the light on to check Roger for burns, in case his tail had touched the water. When he determined he was fine, he gave him a kiss on his head- and got one in return- before placing him back in his cage, giving him a treat, and turning the light back off. It wasn't until he climbed under the covers and laid back against the pillows that he realized he was shaking. He needed to find a way to get out of there- he couldn't deal with this for much longer.

He grabbed his phone off of his night stand and opened Facebook. Maybe some mindless scrolling and funny memes would take his mind off of it long enough for him to calm down and fall asleep.

He noticed that his Uncle Chuck- his mom's brother- was online. He hadn't talked to him in a while, and he debated sending him a message. He could use someone to talk to that wasn't one of his friends, and his Uncle had grown up with his tyrannical religious grandparents, so he kind of understood some of what Cas was dealing with. It was after one am though, and he thought that maybe it was too late to start a conversation, but then he remembered Chuck's recent posts about being in California, so it was a little earlier for him.

He opened a new message, typed **Hey Uncle Chuck** , and hit send.

**Chuck Shurley: hey cas! it's been a while. how have you been?**

**Castiel Novak: Honestly... I've been better**

**Chuck Shurley: what's going on?**

**Castiel Novak: Mom and dad are sending me to conversion therapy again.**

**Chuck Shurley: shit, kid, i'm sorry.**

**Chuck Shurley: why? thought they were fooled last time**

**Castiel Novak: I thought so too**

**Castiel Novak: And maybe they were, but they somehow found out I was seeing someone**

**Chuck Shurley: how?**

**Castiel Novak: I don't know. Maybe they saw us in public**

**Chuck Shurley: shit**

**Castiel Novak: Yeah.**

**Castiel Novak: I don't know how long they've known but she conveniently confronted me the night we split up**

**Chuck Shurley: wait what? so you're not with the guy anymore?**

**Castiel Novak: No**

**Castiel Novak: ...wait**

**Castiel Novak: Omg what if mom fucking SAID SOMETHING TO HIM**

**Castiel Novak: Fuck**

**Chuck Shurley: he dumped you?**

**Castiel Novak: Yeah and couldn't (wouldn't) give me a reason.**

**Chuck Shurley: ouch... maybe she did say something**

**Castiel Novak: I'm gonna fuckin lose it on her, I'm serious**

**Chuck Shurley: cas calm down**

**Chuck Shurley: look you need to get out of there ASAP. i know you're worried about roger but he'll be fine. rats are adaptable. even if you can't stay with any of your friends, maybe he can?**

**Cas: Then where am I supposed to go?**

**Chuck Shurley: i dunno. but then you'd have more options.**

**Chuck Shurley: you know i'd offer you to come here but Beck and i are living in that little RV right now while we travel**

**Castiel Novak: Sounds fun**

**Chuck Shurley: i'm sorry.**

**Castiel Novak: I just don't get why she hates me so much**

**Castiel Novak: WTF did I ever do to her**

**Castiel Novak: It's not just the anti-gay shit. She straight-up hates me I know it**

**Castiel Novak: I can see it in her eyes**

**Castiel Novak: Tonight she said some shit about my sexuality being her punishment or something. I don't know.**

**Castiel Novak: She was super drunk.**

**Castiel Novak: Not that she ever really makes sense anyway**

**Chuck Shurley: ...**

**Chuck Shurley: cas i'm going to tell you something**

**Chuck Shurley: and i need you not to tell your mom i said anything**

**Castiel Novak: Um**

**Castiel Noval: ...ok**

**Chuck Shurley: when I was 19, your mom was 15**

**Chuck Shurley: your father was my age and started going to our church when his family moved into town**

**Chuck Shurley: he and your mom started spending a lot of time together. i didn't like it, he creeped me out, but he was widely liked by everyone in the church so my opinion didn't mean shit, especially because as soon as i turned 18 i had stopped attending services**

**Chuck Shurley: so anyway**

**Chuck Shurley: your mom comes to me one day and confides in me that she'd told our father she was sleeping at a friends house and went to a party with Bart instead**

**Chuck Shurley: while they were there... well she'd never really drank before so she was hammered. went upstairs to lie down and she said the next morning she woke up naked under the blanket with bart and didn't remember shit.**

**Chuck Shurley: she was really upset and i saw fucking red. i mean he basically raped my fucking sister right?**

**Chuck Shurley: if he wasn't too drunk to get it up, he should've been able to tell she was way too drunk to consent**

**Chuck Shurley: but why would he care about that, he was 19 seeing a 15 year old...**

Cas stared at his phone in shock, watching the blinking dots indicating Chuck was typing. A sinking feeling in his stomach told him that he knew exactly where this was going...

**Chuck Shurley: she begged me not to say anything, that she just didn't remember because she'd been drinking and she must have agreed, but she couldn't remember. anyway she said it was her fault for lying to our father and thinking "impure thoughts" about Bart in the first place. that she basically asked for it and she'd pray for forgiveness for both her and bart for sinning.**

**Chuck Shurley: two months later she comes to me again because she's not feeling well. i bought her a drug-store pregnancy test and sure enough she's pregnant**

**Chuck Shurley: and please dont hate me for this**

**Chuck Shurley: i told her that if she didn't keep her mouth shut and get an abortion that dad was going to force her to carry and KEEP the baby. i told her i would take her and pay for it and everything, but she refused.  
**

**Chuck Shurley: and our father did exactly what i said he would. called her a whore and told her if her and bart didn't get married the church would shun them both. bart didn't seem to care, he wanted the abortion, but dad was having none of it. let's just say "shot gun wedding" got pretty literal**

**Castiel Novak: Whoa wait a minute hold up**

**Castiel Novak: Are you saying I'm a fucking rape baby**

**Castiel Novak: Are you fucking serious**

**Chuck Shurley: i'm sorry.. but i thought you should know. it might explain some of her behavior... aside from our insane religious upbringing and her untreated mental illness**

**Chuck Shurley: i mean i'm not a doctor but it's pretty obvious she's not right, Cas**

**Castiel Novak: So she resents me. I ruined her life. She never wanted me**

**Chuck Shurley: i wouldn't say that... it's probably more accurate to say Bart ruined her life**

**Chuck Shurley: and your grandfather**

**Chuck Shurley: but she does probably resent you...**

**Chuck Shurley: fuck this all sounds so horrible and i wish i didnt have to tell you but i need you to know that none of this is your fault**

Cas stared blankly at the screen, thinking back to all the things she'd said in the past, the odd looks and remarks from family members, the weird way she and his father interacted. And the fact that he was twenty-seven and his mom was only forty-three.

**Castiel Novak: This... this actually makes sense. WTF. I don't even know how to feel right now.**

**Chuck Shurley: :(**

**Chuck Shurley: well, i mean, at least you know it's nothing you did wrong...**

**Castiel Novak: Oh, except be born... lol NBD**

**Chuck Shurley: cas stop. none of this was in your control.**

**Chuck Shurley: your mother was failed by so many people in her life it's sickening. and i'm not just talking about all of that- i'm talking about the literal brainwashing we had to endure as kids. i wish so badly i could've gotten her to see the light**

**Castiel Novak: That's ironic... she keeps telling me that /I/ need to see the light.**

**Castiel Novak: If I told her I didn't believe she'd probably burn me at the stake**

**Chuck Shurley: yeah... best to keep that to yourself**

**Chuck Shurley: you still attend services?**

**Castiel Novak: No... they banned me**

**Chuck Shurley: no way lol why**

**Castiel Novak: When they found out I was gay the anti-gay rhetoric multiplied tenfold... one day I got tired of hearing it, and all the damn murmurs of approval, so I stood up and yelled "fuck all of you!" while flipping both birds and walked out.**

**Castiel Novak: Mom followed me out and slapped me so hard in the parking lot my ears were ringing**

**Chuck Shurley: jesus**

**Castiel Novak: That's the problem, isn't it?**

**Chuck Shurley: not him honestly, his followers. or at least those who claim to be**

**Castiel Novak: I guess**

Cas wasn't really sure what else to say after that. He'd gotten way more information than he'd ever expected to from the conversation, although there was absolutely nothing he could do with it. All he knew was that it was a _lot_ to process and he was ready to go to sleep.

**Castiel Novak: Thank you for this info. I think it's helped me understand a little bit what's going on with her. Not that it'll change anything, but...**

**Chuck Shurley: PM if you need me**

**Castiel Novak: Will do. Thanks**

* * *

_September  
_

The leaves were finally falling, and they crunched noisily beneath Dean's boots as he made his way across the parking lot. He was five minutes early for his appointment with Missouri, but he couldn't wait in the car anymore. He'd already spent ten minutes sitting in the driver's seat, because despite how nervous he was, he'd still shown up early.

He signed in at the front desk and turned around to scan the room. He ended up taking a seats in the corner furthest away from the other people in the waiting room, right next to the single double-wide chair nearly every waiting room had these days. He stared at it uncomfortably for a moment, before glancing down at the normal seat he was in and observing the extra room he had. It brought him back to the first time he'd gone there, before he'd lost _anything_ , and he'd taken up almost three-quarters of that larger seat.

At least they'd had one, though. While they weren't the same chairs (twelve years usually sees some redecorating), both sets had wooden arms- an obvious issue for those who were wider than the average person. If they hadn't had one, he would've been left standing and humiliated.

_"Sweetie, stop biting your nails."_

_"I'm fucking nervous," he mumbled._

_"It'll be fine," Mary assured him._

_He didn't exactly like making eye contact with anyone, but he chanced a glance up to look around the waiting room. There was a mother and her child a few seats over, an older man reading a magazine in the corner, and two young girls across the room, talking among themselves. He could feel the little kid staring at him, and he heard the mother mutter something about staring being rude. He just gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the shame bubbling in his stomach._

_He was aware that everyone had their issues, but they weren't wearing the consequences of them on their body like an albatross around their neck. They were able to look outwardly normal, while Dean was stuck with the literal baggage of his own issues attached to his skeleton. He fucking hated it; he often wished he could just rip his skin off, and he had to remind himself that that was why he was there in the first place- because he wanted to change._

_"Dean?"_

_He gripped the arms of the chair and slowly pushed himself up, gritting his teeth at the pain in his knees and lower back. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the others in the waiting room stared without actually staring; they all made a point to look away, but he knew they were all still stealing glances. What could he do though, turn around and leave? So he crossed the room and followed the woman who'd called his name down the hallway and to the last door on the left._

_She motioned towards the couch, and he took a seat as she did the same in a rolling chair across the. "It's nice to meet you, Dean," she said kindly. "I'm Missouri."_

_He forced a smile and hoped when he opened his mouth she wouldn't notice that he was slightly out of breath. "Nice to meet you, too," he mumbled. His skin was prickling with the beginnings of sweat and although he'd just showered before he left the house, he was paranoid he was going to stink. Fuck, he hated this so much-_

_"Hey, what's going on?" Missouri asked softly._

_Dean blinked. "What?"_

_"There's a lot going through your head right now, I can see it on your face. What's going on?"_

_"Um..." He swallowed and hesitated, but she just kept staring at his face waiting for an answer. He looked away and huffed a small, self-deprecating laugh. "I'm just thinking how pathetic I- it is that I can't even walk down a goddamn hallway without being out of breath."_

_Missouri quirked one eyebrow. "Don't think I'm going to ignore what you intended to say, but we can talk about that later. I want you to know that it's not pathetic, hun."_

_He gave her a small nod and she smiled softly. "So do you want to tell me how you got to where you are right now?"_

_"Well, uh..." He reached up to scratch at the back of his head. "I've always been overweight, I guess... Whenever my dad said anything, my mom would just joke that I was an "enthusiastic" eater. Anyway... it wasn't really a_ problem _until I turned thirteen. The other kids at school were dicks, and y'know, puberty and stuff, I wanted to be attractive or whatever, so I started exercising. And it went well for a while until I started trying to run a trail in the woods by my house, and I stepped in a hole and shattered my ankle. And it really sucked because it was right after school let out and I'd been hoping to drop a lot of weight over the summer. Instead I started school in September thirty pounds heavier because I sat on my ass all summer. After that it just... didn't stop."_

_Missouri nodded. "And why do you think you overeat?"_

_Dean shrugged. "I dunno. My mom loves to cook and bake and it's just always there. And she's always offering and... I don't know. She wants to make me happy. She gives me whatever I want. I'm pretty spoiled." He shrugged again. "I don't really have an excuse. I haven't been through anything traumatic. My dad drinks a little too much sometimes and they argue once in a while, but I'm pretty sure that's normal."_

_"Spoiled people don't usually acknowledge that they're spoiled," she said thoughtfully. "And if they do, they certainly don't think it's a problem." She paused. "And you don't need to be traumatized to have issues. I think most all of us have our own issues, and they manifest differently."  
_

_Dean shrugged again. "I guess. But... it mainly just makes me happy? Like, nothing else does the same way. I have other hobbies but I'd always rather be eating and it's kind of sickening. And I always feel guilty afterwards, and eating makes me feel better, sooo..."_

_"So you're stuck in a cycle," she said._

_He nodded. "And I have to break it. I, um, went to see a doctor, and he said if I can lose a little I can have weight-loss surgery. But I obviously need to, uh... figure out the problem to do that... and prevent this from happening again."_

_She smiled. "You have a good head on your shoulders, sweetie. I think you'll be just fine. Can you tell me about your other hobbies?"_

_"Well I play the guitar, and a lot of video games, and I read a lot. And watch TV, obviously. I like nature, but..." He trailed off; thinking of the things he already couldn't do at twenty-one was_ so _depressing._

_She smiled and leaned forward in her chair. "Here's what I want you to do- did the doctor give you a diet plan?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Okay, so in addition to following that, I want you to try to keep yourself busy. Your hands_ and _your mouth. I want you to make a list of things you can do besides eat when you're thinking about food. Playing the guitar or video games would be the best, because it uses both of your hands. Maybe you can make some crafts or learn to draw. Watching TV would be the last thing you want to do, but you could get some sugar-free gum or lollipops to keep your mouth busy when you do."_

_He nodded as she leaned back in her chair. "What's your independence like?"  
_

_"Uh, what do you mean?"_

_"What do you do for yourself?"_

_"Oh, uh... Everything I need to. I mean, my mom insists on doing all the motherly crap- my laundry and shit. But I, um, don't need her help for anything..." He trailed off before weakly finishing, "personal." And thank god for that. He wasn't sure he could handle needing_ that _much help. He knew deep down that, besides the back pain and other health problems he was already developing, the fear of that was part of what had pushed him to try to change; he was scared that loss of independence wasn't too far off._

_She smiled at him. "Now... I'd like to revisit what you first said when you walked in here."_

"Dean?"

Dean blinked and Missouri was at the other end of the waiting room, in the hallway, smiling at him. He practically popped out of his seat to stride across the room and follow her into her office. As she closed the door behind them, she looked him up and down and smiled brightly. "It is so good to see you, sweetie."

"You too, Missouri."

She stepped forward to pull him into a hug, and he hugged her tightly in return. When she stepped back, she looked him up and down. "I'm so glad you're still healthy. I have to admit I was very worried when I saw your name on my schedule." She motioned towards the couch and he took a seat as she made her way towards her chair. "Is everything alright?"

He pressed his palms to his knees and squeezed nervously. "Not really."

She gave him a look of sympathy. "What's going on?"

"Well... I, um, met this guy." He took a deep breath. "And I asked him out. And we really hit it off, and we were together for like three months. And... I told him I tracked everything I ate, but I didn't really tell him why. He knew I was overweight but he had no idea the extent of it. And everything was fine except he himself was kind of overweight and he ate whatever he wanted. And he didn't seem to care, and that was great for him. But... it kind of rubbed off on me hanging out with him constantly, and I stopped tracking and I got lazy. Then I woke up one day after this weird dream where I was fat again and he was there instead of my mom, and that morning I realized I'd put on fifteen pounds."

He realized he was rambling and took a break to sigh. "I freaked out, obviously. And I didn't want to say anything and ask him to change because there's nothing wrong with him, and even though he acted like he didn't care about his weight I could tell he was kind of self-conscious, and I didn't want to make him feel bad about himself. _I'm_ the one with the problem, and I just got scared that I would fuck everything up again, so I broke up with him. I told him I wasn't ready for a relationship, which apparently is kind of true, but I don't think he believed me. He was really hurt and I... I don't know what to do." He swallowed. "I don't know why I'm still like this."

Missouri stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before her face relaxed and she smiled softly. "I'm glad to see you still remember my lecture about being completely honest with me."

Dean smiled sadly. "If only I could be honest with everybody else."

"Well you're here, and we can work on that. So that's a good thing." Dean nodded, already feeling some of the tension draining from his body. "So it sounds to me like you still didn't tell this boy that you had surgery?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Dean let out a heavy sigh. "I guess I'm just still kind of ashamed that I ever let it get to that point. I'm afraid he wouldn't look at me the same if I told him."

"You said he's overweight himself. Do you really think he'd judge you?"

Dean worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "I don't know. He's not really that heavy... maybe thirty extra pounds. I don't expect him to understand."

"I see." She paused. "But I don't think it's fair to not even give him the chance. And he doesn't have to understand to be accepting."

"I know, I just... don't think I can handle the rejection again."

"Can you refresh my memory? Are we talking about Lisa? I thought that had nothing to do with your weight."

"It didn't. She knew about that going into our relationship. I think it was because I'm bi..." He shrugged lightly. "She became kinda distant after I told her and dumped me shortly after." Missouri nodded thoughtfully, her mouth turned down slightly at the corners. "But it's still something that I can't change," Dean continued. "I can't change my past just like I can't change who I am. So... I don't know if I could handle that again. It really hurts thinking of how much work I put into changing my life only for it to still be an issue."

Missouri leaned forward a bit. "It's only an issue because you're making it into one, Dean. If you had told...?"

"Cas," Dean supplied.

"Cas, and he had judged you for it, that's his problem, isn't it? And it would give you a good judge of his character, anyway."

"I guess that's true," Dean said quietly. "But... I kind of fucked it up already. ...I don't know if he'd give me a second chance."

Missouri raised one eyebrow. "Did you do something hurtful?"

"Not intentionally," he said quickly. "But I know he was hurt because he didn't believe the whole 'it's not you, it's me' thing. So I don't know if he'd give me a chance to explain."

"There's only one way to find out," Missouri concluded.

* * *

_October_

Two months since he'd last seen Cas, and Dean was miserable. Actually, miserable was an understatement. He hadn't realized he was missing something in his life until Cas had come and gone. He'd seen Missouri again since his first appointment, and he could tell that she was disappointed that he still hadn't reached out to Cas. But every time he opened a new blank text message, or hovered over the 'call' button on Cas' contact, he just imagined Cas responding with " _fuck off_ ," and he couldn't do it.

He pulled into the lot of Singer's Auto and his heart leapt into his throat when he spotted the Lincoln parked in a spot near the building. The rear end was smashed in, and as he pulled up, he saw that the windshield was completely gone. The front end was relatively unscathed, but the interior was stained red with some smatters of blood.

Instantly his stomach churned with panic. He pulled out his phone and texted Cas without even giving it a second thought.

**Dean: cas, are you okay?**

_Fuck, please let Cas be alright_ , he thought. _Please_.

He climbed out of the car and approached the Lincoln. A few bits of jagged edges of the windshield were still in place, but most of it was smashed all along the inside of the car, littering the seats and floor. There was blood- a lot of it- all over the front seats. He kept checking his phone, but his message only said _delivered_. That at least meant Cas' phone was _on_ , right? He made sure the ringer was on the highest volume before tucking it back into his pocket and walking towards the building.

Bobby was sitting at the front desk, shuffling through some paperwork.

"When did the Lincoln come in?" he asked quickly, struggling not to convey in his voice the panic he was feeling.

"Good morning to you, too," Bobby said gruffly. He picked up his cup of coffee and took a long swig. "Some time late last night. Why?"

"Is the driver okay?"

Bobby frowned. "You know I have no idea. They don't tell us that stuff. We just fix the car. Fixin' the driver's the hospital's problem."

The color drained from Dean's face, and Bobby raised an eyebrow.

"Are you alright, son?"

"I... no," Dean answered honestly. "I know the owner."

Bobby gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sure he's alright."

"I hope so," Dean mumbled. Suddenly, his phone dinged, and he nearly dropped it in his haste to retrieve it from his pocket.

**Cas: I'm fine**

**Dean: thank god**

**Dean: are you sure?**

**Cas: Just a couple of stitches and whiplash. I'll live. Thank you**

**Dean: are you in the hospital?**

**Cas: No, I'm home**

**Dean: ok**

He wasn't sure what else to say, and Cas' short answers made him feel like Cas didn't really want to talk to him (and he couldn't blame him), so he left it at that. He told Bobby he wanted to work on the car, and Bobby shuffled a few things around so Dean could focus on it.

As he spent the next four days working on it, he thought about Cas. He decided he needed to make it right. Even if Cas wouldn't take him back, Cas at least deserved an explanation, and Dean couldn't take the guilt anymore anyway. He had to tell him.

He got out every single dent, replaced the windshield, fixed the rear end, replaced and re-packed the airbag, and cleaned the blood, and when he called the number on the paperwork, a woman answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Naomi Novak?"

"Yes."

"This is Dean, from Singer's Auto. I was just calling to let you know the Lincoln is finished."

"Finally. He's been driving me crazy stuck in the house. What's the total?"

"Well... the damage to the rear end was quite extensive..."

As soon as the total left his mouth, she snapped, "Are you kidding me?"

"Um... no," he mumbled, a bit taken aback. He was used to customers getting upset, but it wasn't usually directed at him. "But that's in line with the estimate you agreed to."

"Yes, but I assumed an estimate was worst-case scenario."

"It ended up being worst-case scenario."

She sighed heavily. "That's practically highway robbery, for something _anyone_ could do."

Did he just hear her correctly? "Um-"

She cut him off with, "What time do you close?"

He was nearly speechless at her audacity. "Five," he said dumbly.

"I'll be there at a quarter to."

"O-" He didn't even have time to finish the word before he heard the click of her hanging up. He shook his head in disbelief and set the phone back down in the cradle. If she treated strangers like that, he didn't really want to know how she treated Cas at home. He remembered what Gabe had told him at the party, and it weighed on his mind, making him feel even guiltier for the next few hours.

Naomi walked in at 4:45 on the dot, Cas trailing behind her, keeping his eyes on the ground. Dean was standing at the desk, and he stared at Cas for a moment, hoping he would look up, but he didn't. He had a decent sized gash across his right cheek, held together with stitches, and a black eye. His hair had grown quite a bit and he looked like he'd packed on at least twenty pounds in the last three months since Dean had seen him in the PetSmart parking lot. He was wearing the same worn Led Zeppelin shirt he'd been wearing when they first met, the one Dean now knew was his favorite, and it was riding up a bit, revealing a good half-inch strip of skin beneath the hem.

He remembered Cas confiding in him that he was an emotional eater, and he felt another pang of guilt.

"I'm here for the Lincoln," his mother announced, oblivious to Dean's intense staring at her son.

Dean tore his eyes away from Cas. "I figured," he muttered, sliding her invoice across the counter. "Cash or credit?"

"Credit," she answered, opening her wallet and sliding out a credit card. She handed it across the counter. "Do you see how much you've cost me, Castiel?"

"Yes," he muttered, and Dean could hear the internal eye-roll in his voice. He couldn't believe Cas hadn't strangled her condescending ass already.

"I told him not to drive in the mountains at night," she said to Dean, although Dean was pretty sure it was more to just hear herself talk. "But does he ever listen to me? No."

Dean clenched his jaw as he ran the card. "Shouldn't you just be glad he's alright?" he muttered.

"If he'd listened to me in the first place, it wouldn't be an issue," she said flatly.

Dean ripped the receipt out of the machine and slapped it on the counter with a pen. "Sign," he said through gritted teeth.

She seemed oblivious to the waves of anger radiating off of him as she signed the slip of paper and handed it back. When Dean returned her card, along with her copy of the receipt, she slipped them into her wallet and glanced at Cas.

"I'll see you at home."

Cas nodded, still staring at the floor, and she walked around him and out the door.

"Jesus, dude," Dean breathed when the door closed behind her.

Cas lifted his eyes, although he still didn't look quite at Dean. "I'm sorry," he said quickly and quietly. "This was the closest place that did body work, and the tow trucks charge by the mile, and-"

"Whoa," Dean said quickly, holding his hands up in front of him. "Why are you apologizing?"

Cas shrugged, lowering his gaze again. "I don't know."

Dean chewed his lip. "I'm glad you came in, Cas. ...And I'm glad you're okay."

Cas looked to the left. "Yeah."

It was quiet for a moment, and then Dean asked, "What happened?"

Cas looked up at him, and his lips parted, but he didn't say anything as he thought back to the night it happened.

He'd been hanging out at Gabe's with him, Kevin, and Alfie, playing Cards Against Humanity. They were both drinking, but Cas had opted out. He'd been drinking too much lately, and it was making him feel like shit, so he was sticking with weed for the night. Gabe and Kevin had decided they were hungry, and Gabe insisted he needed Twizzlers, so they'd asked Cas to go get food. Never one to turn down a food run, Cas agreed to run out to the nearest twenty-four-hour gas station, even though it was nearing midnight.

He'd been driving down the main road, a windy, woodsy road with a speed limit of fifty-five. Another car had been riding his ass for two miles, and their tailgating was making him nervous.

Just as he came around a corner, slowing to a little under fifty to take the turn, a large deer was standing dead in the center of the lane, and it rolled right over Cas' hood, smashing his windshield. He'd slammed on the brakes, and the car behind him that had been tailgating plowed into him at forty-five miles an hour.

"...Cas?"

Cas blinked, clearing his thoughts and focusing on Dean. "Hit a deer," he managed. "...Car behind me was following too closely."

Dean nodded, studying Cas' face. He'd figured as much, since he'd seen the tufts of brown fur jammed into the crevices of Cas' front bumper, but he'd still wanted to ask. "Cas..." he sighed, looking away as Cas looked up at him. "I made a huge mistake. I'd like to explain..." He brought his eyes to Cas' face. "If you'll let me."

As soon as he looked at Cas, Cas looked away again. "Okay," he said softly.

"Will you come over to my house?" Dean asked hopefully. "Floyd misses you."

Cas' lips parted, but he didn't say anything, looking unsure.

"I'll order a pizza. Please."

Cas stared at him for a moment, before the corners of his mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Are you really bribing me with food?"

"Yes," Dean said seriously.

Cas huffed a small laugh, looking away again. "Fine."

Dean smiled, and it felt so weird to smile again, but he couldn't ignore the happiness blooming in his chest at just the realization that Cas was at least going to hear him out. "Awesome. I get out in like ten minutes. You wanna wait in here or in the car?"

"I'll wait in the car," he said. Dean nodded and handed him his keys, and Cas took them and walked out.

Dean pushed out a heavy sigh, mostly relieved that Cas was giving him a chance to explain, and walked into the back to clean up. Once he finished, he said goodbye to Bobby and headed out into the parking lot. As he got into the Impala, he rolled down the passenger window and called over, "Follow me back to my house?"

Cas nodded and started the Lincoln, taking a drag off his cigarette as he waited for Dean to pull out.

Dean ordered the pizza on the way. The entire ride, he kept glancing in the rear view, terrified Cas would veer off in another direction and take off. He didn't, though, following Dean (a little closely) all the way to the house, and once they pulled into the driveway, his fear was replaced by anxiety about what he had to say to Cas. What if Cas never looked at him the same way again? What if he went through all of this and Cas still didn't give him a second chance? As he pulled into his driveway, he reminded himself of what Missouri had said: _There's only one way to find out._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNING:** brief mention of suicide and non-con  
>  Aside from those warnings, parts of this chapter are pretty fucked up.
> 
> I'm so sorry this took so long... But with work, and GISHWHES, and other life stuff, et cetera, I just hadn't been able to get around to it. I think I've also figured out why I've been so hesitant to post this chapter. I'm a bigger person myself, and although my situation is/was nothing like Dean's (at my largest I was about 125 pounds overweight), a lot of what I had to write here was just too damn relatable, and I think that can be said for anyone who has body image issues. I feel like there's this pressure on overweight people to act like it doesn't bother them, like they just love food and don't care (read: Cas), because if they vocalize a desire to change, then don't lose weight, it's seen as failure. So talking about this thing is sort of taboo, and I think a lot of people don't want to do it until after they've started losing weight and prove to themselves (and others) that they can do it. I think the majority of us would like to lose weight (even if extra weight may be something we are still attracted to in others), and it's hard admitting we don't actually have any control over ourselves. I believe food addiction is a way bigger problem then anyone really thinks it is, and no one fucking talks about it! We feel judged enough eating in public, or in any company, so why draw attention to the fact that we have poor self-control... It will only draw more attention to the amount we eat and make us feel worse about eating in front of anyone who knows we're struggling. So while my writing is still anonymous and these feelings are coming out through characters, they're still very much real and I think it's embarrassing. I feel like I'm opening up something about myself. So I guess that's why it's taken me so long to upload this. Anyway, hope you like it, as I've certainly kept you subscribers waiting long enough. *heart*

Taking a deep breath, Dean slowly stepped out of the car and closed the door behind him. He stood awkwardly on the blacktop, thinking that his lawn could use a trim, as he waited for Cas to get out of the newly repaired Lincoln. When Cas approached him, Dean offered a tight smile and turned to head for the door before Cas could get close enough to actually say anything. As soon as he turned the handle and pushed it open, Floyd bounded over the threshold, sparing Dean only a passing glance as he made a bee-line towards Cas. He launched himself up, hitting Cas pretty hard in the stomach with his front paws, but Cas didn't seem to mind, reaching up to rub his ears as he leaned forward to let Floyd lick his face.

"Hey Floyd," Cas murmured, his voice lifting slightly as he rubbed the scruff on Floyd's neck. It didn't escape Dean's notice, though, that he still sounded sad.

He stepped into the house and let out a short whistle, and Floyd turned to follow him. Cas was the last one in, and Dean closed the door and motioned towards the couch.

"Um, you can sit down. I just gotta take Floyd out."

He paced back and forth on the patio as Floyd pooped, going over in his head what he was going to say, oblivious to the odd look his dog was giving him. As he closed the sliding door behind him and Floyd trotted towards the water bowl, a knock on the door nearly had Dean jumping out of his skin. Floyd immediately changed course, running for the front door and letting out a few loud barks. Dean shushed him as he followed and answered the door, feeling like Cas was watching him the entire time. He wouldn't know, though, since he kept his eyes straight ahead. He paid for the pizza, tipped the delivery guy, and headed towards the couch, Floyd at his heels and staring intently at the cardboard box in a death-grip in Dean's hands.

Cas, who had been leaning forward in his seat, elbows on his knees and staring down at his interlaced fingers, looked up as he saw Dean's feet approaching.

"Here," Dean said quickly, setting the box on the coffee table in front of Cas him. "Eat."

Cas raised one eyebrow, straightening up. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just..." Dean started, glancing over at him. "...Nervous." He looked away as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Do you want to smoke first?" Cas offered, holding up a bag of weed and pack of rolling papers that Dean hadn't realized he'd brought inside.

"Uh... yes," Dean said with a nod. "...Thank you." He rounded the coffee table and lowered himself down onto the couch next to Cas, although he wasn't relaxed; instead of sinking back into the cushions, he perched tensely on the edge of the seat, watching Cas roll the joint on top of the pizza box.

Cas licked along the length, sealed it, and sparked it up, inhaling a large drag and holding it in before passing the joint off to Dean. They took about three long pulls each, burning down half of the joint in silence, and Dean actually felt himself relaxing until Cas exhaled a tired-sounding sigh.

"Sooo..." he pushed out awkwardly, "You said you wanted to explain...?" He kept his eyes trained on the joint, rolling it between his fingers.

Dean looked over at him. As his high had crept in, he'd _almost_ forgotten what he had to do. He'd _almost_ been able to pretend everything was the way it was before- he and Cas hanging out, smoking weed on his couch and eating pizza. But things weren't the way they were before, and if he didn't open up and explain _everything_ , Cas wasn't going to stay.

He looked away again. "Cas, I..." He shifted in his seat, turning to face Cas better and fiddling with his hands in his lap. He glanced up, and Cas was watching him with a confused expression. "I gained fifteen pounds hanging out with you," he blurted out. _Fuck_. Probably not the best way to start this conversation.

"Oh," Cas said softly, eyes lowering again to the joint burning between his fingers.

"And I know it sounds really shallow, but it scared me, Cas."

"Why?" Cas asked, looking back up at Dean again. "Is it really that big of a deal? I mean... it's not like I did it on purpose."

"No- I'm definitely not saying you did," Dean said quickly. He paused, then sighed. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but... it is. A big deal. For me." He paused again, trying to figure out how to explain himself. "Remember how I told you I used to be... uh..." He swallowed. "Bigger?"

Cas looked at him curiously. "Yeah."

Dean looked away again. "It wasn't quite that... simple."

Cas tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Dean lowered his face into his hands so he wouldn't have to see Cas' face. "I was, like, huge."

"That's subjective."

"Could've-been-on-TV big," he mumbled through his hands.

Cas' eyes widened. "Wait, wait... like... six-hundred pounds?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

"Well, uh... five-ninety, but yeah," Dean mumbled, lifting his head from his hands but still not looking at Cas. "But I swear it wasn't like what you see on TV. God, I wasn't that bad," he said quickly, suddenly feeling the need to defend himself, although Cas didn't seem disgusted in the slightest. At least, he didn't think so; he still hadn't looked at his face. "I'm six-foot-one. I wasn't fucking incapable of taking care of myself. But I just..." He closed his eyes and swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Didn't go anywhere. I didn't see the point... all anybody did was stare. So I, y'know... stayed home a lot."

"I... wow," Cas said quietly. "I never would've guessed."

"Yeah," Dean breathed. A good ten seconds stretched on in silence, and Dean was pretty sure he was going to throw up. He crossed his arms and leaned forward, curling in on himself a bit as the silence became suffocating.

"When did you lose the weight?" Cas finally asked.

"I had surgery twelve years ago, when I was twenty-two," Dean said, a bit disconnected. "It took me two years, but... I lost all of it."

"That's awesome," Cas said earnestly. "I know the long-term success rate is-"

"Less than five percent," Dean finished for him, his eyes finally flicking over to him for the first time since he'd spilled his secret. It was brief, though, and he immediately returned his gaze to the leg of the coffee table he'd been intently staring at. "Yeah. Which is why I have to be so strict with myself." He closed his eyes. "But food still runs my life. And it always will. I have a food addiction, Cas, and it will always be that way. Some people drink, other people do drugs, I ate. Whenever I felt like shit, or I hated myself or my life, that's what I turned to."

Cas didn't want to take this moment of confession away from Dean, so he didn't say so, but he could definitely relate to that. Although, he also drank and smoked (both weed _and_ cigarettes), so his vices were at least spread across a few different things. And since he'd started drinking when he was sixteen, the overeating had just become more habit than anything else. Maybe he couldn't really relate quite as much as he thought he could, but-

"So when you came into my life," Dean continued, and Cas blinked and re-focused on him, "I started slipping. It was hard seeing you eat whatever you wanted, and you were always offering to share, or just getting something for both of us, and we were getting stoned all the time and doing nothing but hanging out on the couch or driving. And it's not that once in a while will do anything. But the more I eat crap like that, the more I fucking want it. When I got on the scale and saw that I put on fifteen pounds in three months, I nearly had a heart attack." He looked at Cas, finally holding his gaze. "I got scared, Cas."

Cas frowned. Looking into Dean's eyes, he saw nothing there but shame and fear, and it broke his heart. "Dean... I had no idea. If you'd just told me, I would have been much more conscious about what I ate around you."

"I know," Dean admitted, looking down. "And I'm sorry. But... I'm tired of everybody knowing. It's- it's disgusting. And embarrassing. I just wanted to feel fucking normal for once. But that's obviously never going to happen." He paused, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "I'm sorry I put you through all this bullshit."

"It's okay," Cas said quietly. "I understand now why you pushed me away."

Dean lowered his head. "I hope you believe me now when I said that it wasn't your fault."

Cas nodded. "Yeah." Except... it kind of _was_ his fault. He was the one tempting Dean, poisoning him with his bad habits after Dean had done so well for _years_ before he came around. He looked down at the joint, and it had gone out, so he stood up. "I get it."

Dean's head snapped up. "Where are you going?"

Cas looked towards the door. "I thought you just wanted to explain."

"I... I did," Dean said softly. "But I was hoping... I was hoping you'd give me another chance." He paused, worried that exactly what he was afraid of was playing out right in front of him. "But I get it if... if you don't want to."

Cas sighed, his shoulders drooping, and then he turned around to look at Dean. " _Of course_ I do. But do _you_ really want to? After what you just told me? I don't want to negate all of your hard work." The last sentence came out sounding snippy even to his own ears, and he hoped it didn't sound the same to Dean, because he was being sincere. He would never forgive himself if he ruined everything Dean had worked so hard for just because Cas couldn't control himself.

Dean reached out one hand, grabbing Cas' wrist lightly. "C'mere."

Cas allowed Dean to pull him towards him as Dean took his other hand, spreading his legs so Cas could stand between them.

"Yes. I've been fucking miserable without you, Cas," he said, looking up at him. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Cas said softly, keeping his eyes on their hands. "But... I don't want to tempt you."

"Forget about it, Cas, alright? It's my own problem to deal with. I just have to be conscious of it. I thought I had myself under control before, but I didn't."

Cas' eyebrows pressed together in concern as he stared down at Dean. "I want you to think about what you're saying right now, but with alcohol."

"It's different, Cas. I still have to eat. I can't live off air."

"Which makes it even harder. At least an alcoholic can, for the most part, avoid alcohol in their day-to-day lives."

"Cas, if you don't want to take me back... just tell me and get it over with," Dean muttered, looking away. "...Please."

"No," Cas said quickly, and Dean lifted his eyes again to meet his. "I just... I want you to be happy, Dean, and if you start gaining again you clearly won't be."

Dean stared at him for a moment, processing what he'd said, and then he blinked and squeezed Cas' hands. "You make me happy, Cas. That's all that matters to me. I'll make it work. If I have to leave the room when you eat junk, I will. If I need to go to the gym four times a week to keep the weight off, I will. I don't care. But I need you in my life, Cas."

Cas lips turned up into a soft smile. "Okay."

"Thank god," Dean sighed. He let go of Cas' hands to place his palms on his thighs, sliding them up until they rested on his hips. He then leaned forward to rest the side of his face on Cas' stomach. His stubble caught on the fabric of Cas' shirt, and as he took a deep inhale, enjoying the smell of _Cas_ , a hand came up and landed on his head.

"Dean... stop."

Dean pulled his head back and looked up. "Shit. I'm sorry," he said quickly, pulling his hands away. "I get if you don't want me to touch you yet."

"No, that- that's not it at all," Cas mumbled, looking away.

Dean gave him an odd look, before realization overtook his features. "Don't you remember what I said?" he asked, placing his hands on Cas' hips again.

Cas scoffed, staring off across the room to avoid looking at Dean. "Yeah, six months ago. I'm not blind, Dean. I know I've put on weight since then."

"So?" Dean questioned, bringing his hands forward to rest them on the sides of Cas' stomach.

A muscle twitched in Cas' jaw, and then he closed his eyes and Dean could almost see the thought process as he told himself that he was drawing even more attention to his "flaw" by making a big deal over it- something Dean had told himself many times before. Cas opened his eyes again, and that's when Dean noticed just how much his jeans were digging into his hips. He tried to wriggle one finger in, to no avail.

"How are these comfortable?"

"They're not," Cas admitted, looking down at Dean again, his cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.

"Why don't you buy new ones?"

"I don't really have much money leftover after I pay bills," he said weakly. "Well... aside from the copious amount of money I spend on fast food. But if I could stop doing that, I wouldn't be in this predicament, so..."

Dean frowned. "I know your mom's not the nicest person, but... you couldn't ask to short her on rent for a month to get some new clothes?"

Cas scoffed, looking away again. "Absolutely not. She comments about my weight every chance she gets. She actually already said something about it last week." He frowned, raising his voice an octave to imitate his mother. _"And if you think I'm buying you new clothes, you're got another thing coming, Castiel. You need to learn to resist temptation. Gluttony is a sin."_

Dean narrowed his eyes. "That's fucking ridiculous. So she's just making you walk around like this?"

Cas gave a small nod, and Dean felt anger coiling in his stomach. Cas' mom was trying to shame him into losing weight, and he knew first-hand that that _never_ worked. His dad had tried the same thing- making offhanded comments about Dean's weight and what he ate throughout middle school, and it had only served to make him feel worse and eat more.

"We're going to get you new clothes," he decided. "Today."

"That's okay," Cas said quickly. "Really."

Dean shook his head. "No. We're going."

"No," Cas said sternly, and Dean's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Why not?"

"Because then I really won't lose any weight, and... I kind of have to... if I want to be with you."

"Cas," Dean sighed, letting his hands fall away from Cas' hips. "I appreciate that, but it's not about the weight or the way you look. It's just about your eating habits. And I don't think it's fair to ask you to change. I... I just need to control myself. I'm my own responsibility. I thought we _just_ talked about this."

Cas sighed. "I know, but..." He looked down at himself, and Dean's eyes traveled to his stomach as Cas took it in his hands. "It's time. I'm not getting any younger. I think it's about time I maybe gave a little bit of a shit about my health. I can't go on doing whatever the hell I want if I want to live past forty."

Dean swallowed, looking back up at his face. "If you're serious... I can help you."

Cas smiled weakly, letting his hands fall away from his stomach to hang limply at his sides. "That would be nice." Encouragement and instruction would help a hell of a lot more than his mother's snide comments and complete lack of actual helpfulness.

"I can tell you from experience that it's going to be hard not to take anything I say personally, but please try not to, okay?"

Cas nodded.

"My first bit of advice is to slow down when you eat. You inhale your food, and you're not giving your stomach enough time to tell your brain you're full."

Cas nodded again.

Dean took his wrist again and tugged him down onto the couch next to him. "Start with the pizza. Slow."

Cas frowned in confusion. "We really just had this whole discussion and you're telling me to eat pizza?"

Dean returned his frown. "I know, Cas, but I already ordered it. We'll start tomorrow, okay? I'll help you eat the pizza. We'll share some leftovers with Floyd and throw out anything that's left. Or we can start Monday. Whatever you want."

Cas nodded slowly, then leaned forward to pop open the box.

"I'll be right back." Dean stood up and disappeared into the hallway, and when he returned he was holding a pair of pajama pants. "Put these on."

Cas gave him a grateful look, leaning back to unbuckle his belt and unfasten his jeans. He shimmied them off and took the pajama pants from Dean, pulling them up. "Thank you."

Dean sat down next to him, leaning forward and grabbing himself a slice. He took a small bite off of the end, watching Cas as he attempted to eat slowly.

"Cas?" Cas turned to him, chewing slowly. "You should move in with me."

Cas' eyes widened, and he swallowed what was in his mouth. "W- are you serious...?"

"Yes. I don't like the way your mom treats you."

Cas frowned. "You don't have to rescue me, Dean."

Dean shook his head. "It's not that. I wanted to ask for a long time, but I thought it would be moving too fast and you wouldn't want to... But I don't ever want to be away from you, Cas." He stared down at the pizza in his hand. "These last few months were fucking horrible."

"Yeah," Cas said softly, looking down at his own half-eaten slice.

"I'm really sorry," Dean said, looking at Cas sheepishly.

"I know," Cas responded. "I forgive you."

"Are you sure? You don't have a head injury, right?" Dean said, a bit of teasing in his voice.

Cas smiled. "No, I don't. I'm sure."

"Thank you." He paused, watching Cas take another small bite of his pizza. "So... will you?"

Cas chewed slowly, staring thoughtfully at the blank TV across the room. Then he swallowed and gave a small nod. "Yes."

Dean's face lit up, and Cas smiled back. "Awesome. When can we go get your stuff?"

Cas' face fell suddenly, and he set his unfinished slice of pizza down on top of the box. "My mother will be very unhappy," he said quietly, lightly brushing the crumbs from his fingers.

"Why?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. "Shouldn't she be happy you're moving out?"

"No. Because then she can't control me anymore." He paused. "That's all it's ever been about, really."

Dean wasn't really sure what to say. "Well... I'll be there. What's the worst she can do?"

"Say some very nasty things," Cas said quietly, looking away from Dean. "Especially since you're male."

Dean shrugged. "She'll get over it."

Cas laughed sadly. "Yeah," he agreed halfheartedly. "I've still got some time off after the accident. They gave me ten days."

"I get out at one tomorrow. Do you want to go after?"

"Okay."

They finished eating in silence, and when Cas finished his last slice, he turned to Dean. "Do you have any pictures?"

"Of what?"

"Before your surgery."

Dean looked away, his eyes catching a small grease stain he'd left on his jeans when he'd wiped his hands. "Yes."

"...Can I see?"

Dean bit his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing on it nervously before suddenly letting it pop back out and standing up. "Yeah." He strode off into the hallway, returning momentarily with a shoe box. As he sat back down on the couch, he twisted his body so that he was facing Cas and could look at the pictures without him seeing them over his shoulder. He took the lid off and began thumbing through the photographs.

"You can work your way up," he said. He pulled out a Polaroid and flipped it over, and _1988_ was written on the back in black pen. "This was when I was five." He handed it over to Cas.

Cas looked down at the photo. A blonde woman was holding Dean on her hip, the background a blurry forest. Aside from being a bit chubby in the cheeks, Dean looked fairly normal. Freckles were already appearing on his face, accentuated by the afternoon sun pouring down from behind the cameraman.

"That was when it started," Dean said. "The year before, my brother was born, stillborn, and my mom took it really hard. She started spoiling the shit out of me." He rifled through the box again, and pulled out another photo.

"So your mom was your enabler?"

"Yep," Dean said with a nod. "Definitely." He handed the second photo over, one of him and his dad. Dean was standing at the edge of a lake, holding up a fish on a line. "I was eight there. Already bigger than anyone else my age. That I knew, at least," he added, rifling through the box again. "Although I guess that's not saying much at that age. But when you get to high school and you're the biggest kid in school..."

He trailed off, and Cas looked up to see him staring at another photograph, his hands shaking slightly.

"Dean, you don't have to-"

"It's fine," Dean said quickly, eyes still locked on the photogaph. "I just... I didn't think this would effect me this much." He huffed a small laugh, sounding almost hysterical. "I think it's the weed. I know it's supposed to help, but I think it's intensifying it." He swallowed audibly. "God, this is so fucking embarrassing." He finally tore his eyes away from the photo and handed it over. "Fifteen."

Cas looked down at the photo. Dean had his arm around the shoulders of a scrawny red-headed girl wearing a party hat. She was smiling widely into the camera, and while Dean was smiling as well, it was small. He'd definitely put on a significant amount of weight in the seven years since the last photo.

"Is that Charlie?" Cas flipped it over, and _1998 - Charlie's 14th bday_ was written on the back.

"Yep."

"I didn't know you two have known each other for that long."

"Yeah," Dean said. "Charlie's been there through some shit, believe me. She's like my sister."

Cas nodded as Dean handed over another photo with a heavy sigh. "Seventeen. That's when I dropped out junior year because I couldn't fit in the goddamn desks. 'Cause, um, as you can see, I mostly pack it on in my stomach."

Cas looked at the photo for a long time. Dean was in the passenger seat of the Impala, and the photo was obviously taken by the driver. He was giving the camera a thumbs up, all of his teeth revealed as his lips stretched into a wide grin. "That was when my dad first got her," he said, peering over at the photo in Cas' hands. "He gave her to me once I dropped the weight and got my license. He was so damn proud of me, and it was weird, because he'd never been proud of me before in my life." He paused and went back to rifling through the box. "At least, he'd never said so."

The next photo he handed over without even looking at it. "Ugh. Eighteen. Charlie took that one. The next day I had a doctor's appointment and found out I was four-fifty. My parents got into a huge fight over it," he said, shaking his head. "Not a good day. I refused to go to the doctor after that. Not my smartest decision, but I was stubborn."

In the photo, Dean was sitting on a bed in what Cas assumed was his room, a video game controller in one hand, the other held up and flipping off the person holding the camera. The walls were covered in a patchwork of movie and band posters. Cas flipped it over, and _2001 - 450_ was written on the back. He flipped it back over, pulling his eyes away when he heard Dean sigh beside him.

"This was my twentieth birthday. 2003. Like I said, I refused to go to the doctor, but I'm pretty sure I was five hundred here." He paused, staring down at the photo, his mouth twisting into a disgusted frown. "God, I was fucking miserable. All I could think was _'Is this going to be the rest of my life?'_ " He shook his head and passed the photo over to Cas.

Cas frowned down at it. Dean certainly did look miserable.

"That's when I pretty much just stopped caring," Dean mumbled, staring at the photo in Cas' hands. "And, like, when it gets to a point where the only thing you do is walk back and forth in your house all day, it's not like you have to _keep_ increasing your calories to keep packing it on. It just happens. Like, in the end I was probably eating the same amount as I was when I was five-hundred, but six months after I turned twenty-one, my mom finally dragged my fat ass to the doctor and I was five-ninety. ...Had a couple'a health problems already."

He handed Cas another photo. In it, Dean was standing in the center of the room, staring straight at the camera.

"I mean, I guess nothing _serious_ , but I was pre-diabetic because I ate a fuck ton of sugar and carbs, and my knees hurt really bad. Had a lot of trouble sleeping. If I didn't do something about it, it would've _gotten_ serious. ...Oh, and since it mostly went to my stomach, my lower back hurt so damn bad."

"I seem to have the same problem," Cas said flatly, glancing down at himself.

They sat in silence for a moment, Dean leaning over to stare at the photo.

"They said if I lost fifty pounds on my own over three months to show I was serious, they would do the surgery. So that's the before picture my mom insisted on taking. That was 2005, right after my twenty-second birthday."

"And you lost the fifty?" Cas asked, staring at the photo in his hands. He briefly wondered if Dean's bow legs were caused by growing up with so much extra weight on his frame, or if they were simply genetic.

"I only lost forty-five," he said quietly. "But they did the surgery anyway. I think my mom tried to sabotage me a bit, and I think the doctor knew that."

Cas looked up to meet his eyes."Why would she do that?"

Dean sighed. "I dunno. She was scared, I guess. The surgery's dangerous. But I didn't care. I was gonna die anyway if I didn't do it. And what I had was no life anyway." He paused. "And I think she was just, like, obsessed with mothering me, and losing the weight meant that I'd become independent and move out. I don't think she realized what she was doing, but I think subconsciously that was why." Dean looked away for a moment, and then he laughed bitterly. "I remember one time I was in the hospital- this was way after the surgery- and she kept asking me if I was hungry, if they were feeding me enough. I had to tell her I was fine like five times. Finally I told her I could use some more pain medication, and she left to find a nurse, and I cried remembering all the times as a kid she made me finish my plate when I wasn't hungry, and as a teenager when she'd make me like five meals a day, and I got so fucking mad at her for setting me up for failure. ...I really resented her for a while for that."

"That's..." Cas cleared his throat. "That's really fucked up."

Dean shrugged. "I know. But that was a long time ago. I definitely can't place all the blame on her. Lots of therapy since then. For both of us."

"I... can't believe this is you," Cas said quietly, turning his attention back to the picture in his hand.

"I know, right?" Dean said. "It's fucking gross."

"It's not gross," Cas said. "It's just... sad. It seems like you missed out on a lot of your teenage years."

"Yeah," Dean agreed.

"You know what's weird?"

"What?"

"For some reason I always imagined you as this super hot popular kid in high school. Maybe a jock or something. Life of the party, getting laid."

Dean snorted a laugh. "Yeah, no. I was a fuckin' joke, Cas. I had the trifecta."

Cas raised one eyebrow. "The trifecta?"

"Yeah man. I was a nerd, I was fat, _and_ I was gay. Like, _sometimes_ you can get away with two, if you're funny, but not three."

"But you're bi."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude. We're talking high school in Texas in the nineties. They didn't see a difference. If you didn't recoil and vomit at the sight of another dude's dick, you were gay."

"How'd they find out?"

Dean frowned. "Um... Well. Alright, this is really fucking embarrassing but it was like sixth grade so give me a break." He exhaled an exaggerated sigh. "We were at lunch and I was at the far end of a table, alone. The kids at the other end were playing 'would you rather'. I wasn't really paying attention, but one of them called my name and asked me if I'd rather eat dog shit or kiss a guy. And I wasn't stupid, I knew how people felt about it, but no way was I going to say I'd eat fucking dog shit, because for one, it's gross, and two, I figured they'd turn it into some kind of fat joke. It seemed like an obvious answer. So I said 'Kiss a guy, I guess?' ...The dude who asked me burst out laughing and the guy across from him was like, 'Holy shit, Winchester's a queer!' and the first guy yells, 'You know he must really want to do it if he'd choose it over _eating_ something!' ...And then they laughed even harder. And I didn't say anything else, I just shut my mouth, because there is literally no winning in that situation. If I'd said dog shit, it would've been a fat joke. Anyway... then they took my silence as proof. So."

"Wow," Cas said softly. "That's horrible."

"That was nothing," Dean said with a soft laugh. "But, uh, anyway..." He stared down at the photo in Cas' hands, chewing on his lip. "...You wanna know something else?"

Cas looked at him expectantly.

"I didn't get laid until I was twenty-five."

"No way," Cas said. "Why?" He was pretty sure if he'd been in a similar situation, as soon as he'd lost the weight, he'd find the first stranger he could just to see what it felt like.

"Well... even after I lost the weight, I still thought I was pretty gross. Still do, sometimes." He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "I've just always been ashamed of myself, I guess. Never really had a lot of confidence." He paused. "I know it doesn't seem that way. I try to fake it. I feel like I just come off as cocky though." He pursed his lips. "Feels weird to say all that out loud."

Cas raised one eyebrow. "Dean, you look great now. I'm serious. ...And you're not cocky."

Dean smiled sadly. "You still haven't seen me without a shirt on."

Cas frowned. "You're right, I haven't. ...Can I?"

"Later," Dean said. "But for now, give me those." He motioned for Cas to hand him the photos back. Cas passed them over, and Dean shoved them back into the box. "You wanna see the ones of my progress?"

"Yes," Cas said quickly, moving a little closer on the couch.

Dean flipped through more photos before pulling one out. "This was six months after my surgery. Summer of 2005. I'd lost forty-five to get the surgery, and in the next six months I dropped another hundred."

"Holy shit," Cas breathed.

"Yeah. That'll happen when they staple your stomach and remove half of your intestines. So, I was around four-fifty here."

Cas leaned over to look at the photo in Dean's hands. "You look happy."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I was. _Really_ happy." He put it back in the box and searched for another one. "This was another six months later. Right after I turned twenty-three. I'd only lost another eighty, but I was below four hundred for the first time since, shit, I dunno, probably seventeen. So they agreed to do my first skin removal surgery."

Cas' eyes widened, and he looked away from the picture and up at Dean.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"That's what the scars are from."

Dean frowned. "You've, uh, seen them?"

Cas lowered his eyes to the photo again. "The first night I stayed over, when I woke up, you had your arm behind your head. So I saw the one on the underside of your arm. And another time, when I was, uh... between your legs. I saw part of the one on your inner thigh."

Dean nodded slowly and swallowed. "Yeah, those are from the final surgeries. The first surgery was just taking off all of the extra skin on my stomach because it was annoying as fuck." He paused, clearly debating if he should say what he was thinking, but then he just blurted it out. "Then I could jerk off again. It was fucking glorious."

Cas burst out laughing, and Dean laughed along with him. He'd leave out the part where he still didn't for the longest time because he'd still found himself repulsive. Cas didn't need to hear that crap.

"Okay," Dean said quickly. "Let's finish this up so we can pretend this never happened." He rummaged through more of the photos, pulling another one out. "This was 2007, when I finally got below three hundred, a year and a half after my surgery. The first skin removal took off like forty pounds, by the way."

"Holy shit," Cas breathed. The photo was of Dean, holding a small brown puppy to his chest, a large smile plastered on his face.

"Yeah."

"Is that Floyd?"

"Yep." He put the photo back and pulled out another one. "This was two years after my surgery. ...I was at two-fifteen."

Cas frowned at the photo. Dean was dressed in jeans and a flannel, standing in a hallway, hands buried in his pockets. He was forcing a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You don't look as happy as I thought you would," he observed.

Dean sighed, looking at the photo in his hand. "Yeah. Because I had so much extra skin. It was disgusting. I was so discouraged and angry with myself for ruining my body. ...That after all my hard work, I was still ashamed of it." He paused, still staring at the photo. "I have one in my underwear, but... I'd _really_ rather not show you. _Maybe_ one day."

"You don't have to," Cas said quietly. "But show me the one from after the surgeries."

Dean put the photo back and retrieved one more from the box. "There were a few surgeries after the initial one. Another one on my torso, but, like, all around my waist and my chest and stuff. Then one on my arms, and one on my thighs. This was a few months after the final one, once I'd healed. The surgeries took off twenty-seven pounds of just skin."

Cas looked at the photo for a long time. Dean was outside, on what looked like a hiking trail. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, holding his arms above his head and grinning at the camera. That was the Dean he knew, and it was weird seeing that Dean ten years younger.

"Looking at this, I never would have known what you looked like before," Cas said.

"I know, right? Except I was covered in scars, and my skin was still a little loose. I wore a tee shirt for this photo but usually I always wore a flannel over it. But I'd lost it all with diet change and cardio, so I didn't have much muscle mass. I did it on purpose so they could take off as much skin as possible. Once I gained some muscle... it filled out what little extra skin was left pretty well."

Cas held the few photos left in his hand out to Dean, who took them and put them back in the box. "Now I can see why fifteen pounds freaked you out so much."

"Yeah," Dean huffed, shaking his head a little. "Although looking at those, fifteen pounds really seems like nothing. I was just scared that if I slipped so easily, I would completely lose control again."

"I understand."

"If I'm being honest, I kind of preferred the extra few pounds. The skin on my stomach didn't feel as... loose."

Dean leaned forward to set the box on the coffee table, and Cas reached over, placing his hand on Dean's thigh. "I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, Cas." Dean took Cas' hand in his own, squeezing his fingers.

"Did they offer for you to go on that show?" Cas asked.

Dean shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Well... to be honest," he said, looking down at Cas' fingers, "my case wasn't that... extreme? I mean, I dunno if you've ever watched the show, but a lot of the patients have, like... oddly shaped fat deposits, lymphodemas, skin infections. Um... a lot of 'em can't even stand up, let alone take care of themselves. They've got the family members bathing them and stuff." He shook his head lightly. "I wasn't any of that. The only thing my mom did for me was normal mom shit- cooking, laundry, cleaning. The people who are on the show at six-hundred pounds are usually pretty short... At my height I probably would've had to hit seven or eight to get on there." He shrugged lightly. "Insurance covered the surgery and first skin removal anyway, so all I would've gotten out of it was the rest of the skin removal surgeries because they were considered cosmetic." He rolled his eyes. "I begged my dad to pay for it, although it didn't take much to get him to agree, and I paid him back every penny. But I wouldn't have wanted to be on TV anyway, even if it meant I'd be stuck with the extra skin. I wasn't going to broadcast my pathetic life to the entire world. People watch those shows to make them feel better about themselves, or to laugh. Nobody watches those things with sympathy for the people on there."

"I do," Cas said quietly.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You watch that show?"

"Well... my mom does," Cas said uncomfortably. "She makes me watch it sometimes. To try and scare me, probably."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Your mom's a real fucking piece of work."

"Yeah," Cas agreed. "She is certainly not one of the people who watches with sympathy, that's for sure."

Dean sighed. "You can't expect too much of people, Cas. Most don't even have sympathy for drug addicts. They aren't going to have sympathy for food addicts."

"I suppose so."

"Do you want to talk about what we're going to do?"

Cas stared at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Y'know... you getting healthy."

"Oh. Yes."

"Okay. Be right back." Dean let go of Cas' hand and grabbed the shoe box, walking off into the hallway and into his bedroom. He came back with a notebook and pen, sitting back down on the couch. He patted his thigh. "Lay down."

Cas scooted farther over and laid back, resting his head in Dean's lap.

"So tell me what a typical day's like," Dean said, carding his fingers through Cas' hair.

Cas closed his eyes. "Holy shit," he murmured, "That feels good."

Dean waited a moment for Cas to continue speaking, and when he didn't, he smirked. "Don't avoid the question."

Cas groaned. "It's embarrassing."

Dean scoffed. "Cas, I used to eat enough to feed a small army. Just tell me."

"Fine," Cas mumbled. "Well I told you my moms cooking sucks, so... I usually eat cereal. A bowl or two. Doesn't fill me up for long though. I'm hungry like an hour later. So I prefer to stop somewhere instead of eating cereal, but I'm starving when I wake up, so sometimes it's both. If I stop somewhere it's usually McDonald's for a McGriddle and hashbrowns. But, uh... recently they had the two for three-fifty deal, so I'd been getting two," he said, reaching up to cover his face with his hands. "If I have cash I hit the vending machine at work. For lunch I get fast food. Whatever it is depends on the day. Taco bell, or burgers, or whatever. For dinner it depends. Sometimes I stomach my mom's cooking, other days I get Chinese food. Or pizza. Sometimes I sneak into the kitchen and cook after she falls asleep."

"Okay," Dean said, nodding slowly. "It's hard to guess because it's so varied but I would guess you're eating at least four thousand calories a day, Cas."

Cas opened his eyes, frowning up at Dean. "That's a lot?"

Dean nodded. "When you look at nutrition labels, they base the percentages off of a two-thousand calorie a day diet, which is a ballpark average for most people. But you're very sedentary, so I would guess you only need twelve to fifteen hundred."

"Wow," Cas mumbled. "No wonder I'm fat."

Dean pressed his eyebrows together. "You're really going to call _yourself_ fat, after you just looked at all those pictures?"

"Just because you were bigger doesn't negate the fact that I am fat as well."

Dean studied his face for a moment, but he didn't see the point in arguing. Cas was, technically, right. "Don't feel bad," he said. "I was probably eating like, seven or eight," he said instead. "So what we need to do is get you moving, first and foremost. And second, you need to track what you eat. No more fast food, or soda-"

Cas groaned again.

"Hey, I know it sucks, trust me. But you'll feel so much better. You feel pretty tired and sluggish all the time, don't you?"

"Yes."

"That's why." Cas nodded. "I know it'll be hard, but listen. You're going to be living with me now, and I'm going to help you, okay? Do you know how to cook?"

Cas shook his head. "I mean, I can follow instructions on a box, but..."

Dean smiled. "Very different. But it's okay. I'm gonna teach you." He leaned forward and set the notebook down on the coffee table. "I'm gonna teach you to eat right, and I'm gonna be there to encourage you and keep you on track, alright?" Cas gave him a small smile. "And you wanna know something crazy?" he asked, beginning to card his fingers through Cas' hair again.

"What?"

"I don't even fucking miss soda now. Notice I didn't drink much, even when you offered?"

"Yeah, actually."

"Yep. It's harder with the food, but I don't miss soda at all. I don't even really like it anymore."

Cas chuckled softly. "Mind. Blown." He began to push himself up from Dean's lap, and Dean reached out and grabbed his face, pulling him in for a kiss.

Cas stiffened in surprise, but then he melted into it, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and darting his tongue into his mouth. When he pulled back, he bit his lip into his mouth, looking into Dean's eyes. "I think we should, um... burn some calories right now." He couldn't stop himself from cringing at how lame that sounded as soon as it left his mouth, but Dean just laughed and smiled.

"Good idea."

Cas swung his legs over and stood up, and Dean followed. On their way to the bedroom, Dean grabbed his hand, and Cas laced their fingers together. As they approached the bed, Dean pulled him in for another kiss, and Cas turned them so that the back of Dean's legs hit the edge of the mattress. He broke the kiss and buried his face in Dean's neck, kissing the warm skin there.

"...Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we, um... can we have actual sex?"

In the three months they'd been together, they'd never actually gotten that far. There'd been plenty of frottage and oral, and Cas had let Dean eat him out once, but there'd never actually been any penetration.

"Um..." Dean swallowed thickly. "I've never, um... bottomed before."

"You don't have to," Cas said, one of his hands on Dean's hip, the other running over Dean's lower back. He wasn't going to ask about why Dean assumed he had to bottom. "You can fuck me."

Dean dug his fingers into the skin around Cas' middle, a small shiver running through him at the feeling of Cas' warm breath on his neck. "...Are you sure?"

Cas huffed a small laugh. "I'm sure. Unless... you don't want to."

"No," Dean said quickly, "I want to."

Cas pulled back and placed an open palm on Dean's chest, pushing him backwards onto the bed. Dean bounced a bit as he landed propped on his elbows, then turned and scooted up to lean back on the pillows.

Cas dropped his pajama pants and underwear and climbed up onto the mattress, straddling Dean's hips. He splayed his hands out on Dean's chest, looking down at his flannel. "Can I take this off?"

Dean swallowed around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. The sun was already setting outside, but both night stand lights were on. He looked up into Cas' eyes, and he realized that he trusted Cas completely. Cas wasn't going to judge him. He swallowed down his nervousness and gave Cas a small nod.

Cas began unbuttoning his flannel, and Dean could feel his heart pounding harder with each button. He wished he'd done this before he told Cas everything- then at least he wouldn't be _looking_ for the scars. Hell, he might not have even noticed them right away. Finally, Cas undid the last button, sliding his fingers beneath each side of fabric and pushing it open. He inhaled a sharp breath, lifting his eyes up to Dean's face, which was flushing with embarrassment.

"You're gorgeous, Dean," he whispered, and Dean's face darkened further as he dropped his gaze. "I mean it," Cas said, sliding his palms across Dean's chest and into the sleeves of his shirt. "You can't even tell." Dean sat up a bit so Cas could slide it off, and then he tossed it to the floor as Dean leaned back again.

"Except for the scars," Dean blurted out, looking down at himself. "And stretch marks," he added, pointing to a patch of faded stripes, only visible due to the angle of the light coming from the lamp. "And look." He grabbed the skin below his navel between his index finger and thumb and pulled it up. It tented slightly, and Cas gently slapped his hand away, causing Dean to snap his head back up.

"Stop it." He leaned down and crushed their lips together, and Dean let out a surprised little noise into his mouth. He reached up and fingered the hem of Cas' shirt, and Cas broke the kiss, stiffening slightly.

"You took off mine."

"I know..."

Dean sighed, not out of frustration or annoyance, but empathy.

"Alright, alright," Cas muttered. He leaned back and crossed his arms, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and pulling it off over his head. He tossed it to the floor and turned back to Dean. "Happy?"

"Yes," Dean breathed, placing his hands on Cas' waist and rubbing his thumbs into the soft skin there. "Very."

Cas wanted to make some offhanded remark about Dean being a chubby chaser or something, if only to take the attention off of himself, but he elected to keep quiet. Instead, he scooted up and leaned forward, planting his hands on the mattress, and rolled his hips.

Dean gasped as the hard length of Cas' cock pressed up against his own through his boxers. Cas rose up onto his knees, and Dean's hips lifted off the mattress, desperate for more friction.

"Take those off."

Dean quickly complied, pushing them down to his knees and then kicking them off. Cas lowered himself again, lining himself up with Dean and rolling his hips again.

Dean closed his eyes as a quiet groan escaped his lips.

"You have lube, right?"

Dean opened his eyes and nodded, twisting at the waist to reach into the bottom drawer of his nightstand. After rummaging around for a moment, he laid back down with a small bottle of lube clutched in his hand and a condom wrapper tucked between his fingers.

He dropped the condom onto his stomach and popped open the cap to the bottle, pouring a generous amount of lube onto his fingertips. He rubbed his fingers together to warm it up as Cas rose to his knees and took himself in his hand. Dean watched as Cas slowly stroked himself, lost in the view, until Cas spoke.

"Dean."

Dean blinked, eyes lifting to meet Cas' gaze. "Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," Cas assured him.

Dean reached up behind his balls, and Cas re-positioned his knees to spread them wider. Dean wrapped the fingers of his other hand around the head of Cas' cock, and Cas let his hand fall away as Dean took over, tugging slowly as his finger circled Cas' entrance. He watched Cas' face; watched as he tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and let his lips part.

Dean slowly pushed one finger inside, up to the first knuckle, and Cas let out a little sigh. Dean pushed it in further and wiggled it around a bit, tugging on the rim as he stroked Cas' shaft with his other hand. A bit of precome oozed from the tip, and Dean swiped it around with his thumb. Above him, Cas let out a little moan, so Dean pulled his finger back out and returned it with a second one.

His own cock ached between them, so he pulled his hand away from Cas' length to wrap his fingers around his own. He tugged gently, slowly, as the fingers of his other hand continued to work Cas open. A few more minutes passed before Cas opened his eyes and looked down at Dean.

"Dean," he breathed.

Dean removed his fingers and let go of his cock to grab the condom and rip open the wrapper. He rolled it down over himself, and then he grabbed the bottle of lube off of the bed and poured a generous amount onto his dick. He stroked himself once or twice, just to spread it around, then he firmly grasped the base and looked up at Cas, waiting for him to take the lead.

Cas shimmied down a bit, placing his palms on Dean's chest before lowering himself down. He bit his lip as he felt the head catch on his rim, slowly lowering himself further until it slid in.

Dean gasped beneath him as he slowly sunk into the soft warmth of Cas. Cas let out a slow breath until he was fully seated, and then he stilled for a moment, eyes closed, fingers pressing softly into the skin on Dean's chest.

"You feel so good, Cas," Dean murmured, bringing his hands up to grip Cas' waist again. Because holy shit, it felt like it had been _forever_ since he'd been inside somebody. And now that he was, it wasn't just anybody, it was _Cas_.

"So do you," Cas responded. He rolled his hips slightly, forcing another groan out of Dean. "Are you going to move?"

"Yes," Dean pushed out. He slid his feet up to plant them on the mattress, jostling Cas in the process. Cas leaned back a bit onto Dean's legs, and, gripping Cas' waist tightly to keep him in place, Dean pulled his hips back a bit before rolling them forward.

Cas let out a strangled little groan as his eyes slipped shut. He stayed upright as Dean gently thrust up into him a few times, and then he leaned forward, draping himself over Dean. Dean's hands moved to palm across his back as Cas pressed kisses to his neck.

It was agonizing, but Dean kept it slow and steady for a few minutes, focusing on the feeling of Cas' mouth against his neck. Cas turned his head slightly, trailing open-mouthed kisses along Dean's jawline until he made it to his mouth. He brought one hand up from where it was supporting him on the mattress to cup Dean's face as he pressed their lips together.

Dean's lips parted to let Cas inside, and as their tongues explored each other's mouths, all Dean could think about was how much he'd missed this. He'd missed the way Cas tasted, the way he smelled- both fresh out of the shower and not, the weight and warmth of Cas on top of him.

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, pressing him to his chest, and flipped them over. He almost slid out, but not completely, and the way Cas clenched around him as they rolled sent a wave of pleasure through his core. He propped himself up on his elbows and picked up the pace, slamming into Cas over and over as that familiar heat pooled in his stomach.

"Oh, god," Cas choked out, fingers digging into the muscle on Dean's upper arms.

He started to slow down, trying to prolong his release, but Cas had other ideas. He reached down and grabbed onto the meat of Dean's ass, pulling his hips further toward him. "Come on, don't stop," he whined. "Please."

"Cas," Dean panted. "I don't wanna come yet."

Cas gave a quick nod and licked his lips, sliding his hands up Dean's lower back and to his shoulder blades. Dean lowered himself down onto him, sealing their lips together. They made out lazily, as Dean thrust in and out at a slow, steady pace. When Cas started whining impatiently into the kiss, rolling his hips up to meet Dean's thrusts, Dean pulled back, settling back on his haunches. He grabbed around the back of Cas' thighs and lifted his hips up, sliding out almost all the way before slamming back in.

Stars exploded in Cas' vision as Dean hit his prostate.

"Fuck," he moaned. "Dean. Just like that."

Dean did it again, and again, and he felt himself rapidly approaching his breaking point. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back until Cas came, but all he got was a decent amount of precome oozing from the head. He released Cas' left leg- which Cas lazily pressed up against his waist- and reached forward, taking Cas in his hand, wondering how he could've been so selfish as to neglect Cas' cock. He spread the precome around, jerking roughly in time with his thrusts. He tore his eyes away from Cas' perfect dick to take in his face; his head was tossed back, pressed into the pillow, eyes screwed shut and mouth open slightly. His face and neck were flushed, all the way down to his chest, which was rising and falling rapidly as he approached release. When Dean rubbed his thumb right along the underside of the head on the upstroke, perfectly in sync with hitting his prostate, Cas cried out, shooting his load all over his chest and neck.

Dean finally let himself go, tipping his head back and exploding into the condom with a grunt. He gave two more lazy thrusts, his hips shaking, before he dropped Cas and collapsed on top of him.

"That was... awesome..." Cas breathed.

Dean sucked in a breath and nodded. "Yeah," he panted. "I'm sorry... I came... so fast."

Cas reached up and ran his fingers through Dean's hair. "You did fine. Really."

They laid like that for a few minutes, panting and sweaty, until Cas began squirming.

"Hold on," Dean said. "I'll get it." He slowly pushed himself up and leaned back on his knees, grabbing his softened dick at the base to pull the condom out with it. Cas let out a small sigh as Dean climbed off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, returning momentarily with two wet washcloths. He wiped down Cas' neck and chest, and used the other one to clean between his legs.

Cas spread his legs for him, and when Dean looked up, he murmured, "You're very pretty, Cas."

Cas' face was already a bit pink from exertion, but it flushed a deeper red. "Thank you," he said quietly. They held their gaze for a moment before Cas cleared his throat and looked towards the bedroom door. "I could really use a cigarette."

"You can smoke in here," Dean offered.

Cas blinked. "...Are you sure?"

Dean nodded. "I'd prefer not to make it a habit, but I think I can make an exception for after sex." He flashed Cas a grin as he pulled on his boxers, followed by the pajama pants Cas had discarded. "Let me just grab the ashtray."

They laid in bed for a while after that, until Dean cleared his throat. "You know," he said into Cas' shoulder, "You're only the fourth person I've slept with."

"Really?"

Dean nodded. "What about you?"

Cas let out a breath. "Including you? Sixteen."

"Fucking player," Dean teased, slapping Cas' chest as lightly as possible.

Cas shrugged. "I get around."

Dean was quiet for a few minutes, but then suddenly he lifted his head. "Shit, how much stuff do you have? We probably need a truck."

Cas shrugged his shoulders lightly. "A bed, a dresser, a night stand... Roger's cage. Otherwise it's just some clothes... CD's and cassette tapes. A few books. My laptop."

"Do you need the bed?" Dean asked. "I mean... I have a guest room, with a bed. If you want."

Cas looked disappointed. "That's fine."

"You can sleep in here, Cas," Dean said quickly. "I just wasn't sure if you'd want to. You made it sound like you wanted to bring your bed."

Cas rolled over and tucked his face into Dean's chest. "Of course I want to. But I didn't want to assume."

"Good," Dean responded, running his palm along Cas' upper back. "I'm going to call Bobby and see if I can borrow his truck after work."

"Okay," Cas murmured.

"Are you tired?"

Cas nodded minutely. "And my head hurts."

"Do you want some ibuprofen?"

Cas nodded again. "I have a prescription, but I left it at home."

"Okay, I'll be right back," Dean offered, pushing himself up off of the mattress. "Get under the blanket and get comfortable."

"Thank you," Cas said distractedly as Dean left the room, glancing down and realizing he'd been naked the entire time. Jesus. He got out of bed and pulled the blanket back, settling down on the sheets and pulling it back over himself.

Dean came back in with two pills and a glass of water.

"Thank you," Cas said as he took them from Dean's outstretched hands. He knocked the pills back and downed half of the water as Dean pulled down his pajama pants.

"Holy shit, you have no idea how good it feels to have all of that off my chest," he said, dropping his underwear and stepping out of them to get under the blanket with Cas. "I hated hiding it from you."

"I wish you hadn't felt like you needed to hide it from me in the first place," Cas said, setting the half-full glass of water down on the night stand.

"Me too," Dean agreed, twisting around to adjust his alarm clock as Cas settled on his back into the pillows. Dean clicked off the light and shifted next to him, tossing one arm over his stomach. "And now I can sleep naked. I hated sleeping in clothes."

"I hate it, too," Cas said around a yawn, rolling over to so his back was to Dean. Dean scooted over so he was pressed up against his back, settling his face against the back of Cas' neck and tightening his arm around him.

"Am I, like, smothering you?" Dean asked after a moment.

"Not at all," Cas replied sleepily.

"Good." Dean sighed contently against his skin. "I'm really glad you're here, Cas."

"Me too."

"Night."

"Goodnight, Dean." As Dean's breathing evened out behind him, Cas took a moment to recognize how incredibly grateful he was that he'd found Dean, and that even after their big hiccup, he was back in Dean's bed (and his life), arm wrapped securely around him. The realization that as of now, he would have this every night, had him drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face. He just had to get through tomorrow.

* * *

The next morning, Dean woke Cas up bright and early with a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

"Mornin', sunshine."

Cas groaned, pushing himself up into a sitting position and rubbing at his eyes. He squinted at Dean, standing at the edge of the bed, and then his eyes traveled down to the mug of coffee in his hand. Dean handed it to him and Cas took a small sip.

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean smiled warmly. "You're welcome." He sat down next to him on the bed, watching as Cas sipped his cup of coffee and tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes. "So I'm leaving for work soon. I'll be back by one-thirty." He paused, taking in Cas' squinting eyes and bedhead. "You can go back to sleep if you want."

Cas blinked, then looked down at his coffee, then back up at Dean. "So why did you wake me up and make me coffee?"

"I wanted to ask you a question and then make you breakfast."

"Okay? What's the question?"

"Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?" Cas nodded. "Okay, so, today, or Monday?"

Cas blinked again as he took a moment to recall what exactly they'd talked about yesterday. "Oh," he said finally. Then, sheepishly, "Uh, Monday."

"Okay."

"But you should do it with me."

"Do what with you?"

"Eat whatever you want for the weekend."

Dean smiled and shook his head. "I can't, Cas."

"Yes you can, because then on Monday you have to teach me how to eat right. So you won't be able to just keep eating crap." He smirked and lifted his coffee mug towards his mouth. "My health is in your hands." He took a quick sip of the coffee. "Two days. We can just smoke and hang out until Monday."

Dean thought about it for a moment. Cas did deserve at least a day or two to eat what he wanted without his mom making him feel like shit. And he'd wanted to put that fifteen pounds back on anyway, so it's not like it really mattered. Cas was right, even if he was tempted to keep eating crap after the weekend, he had Cas to set an example for now. "...Does sound kinda fun."

"So yes?"

"Yes. So if you want breakfast, get up. I have to leave in half an hour."

"I definitely want breakfast."

Dean smiled and stood up, leaving the room as Cas finished his coffee. He set the mug down on the night stand and located his underwear and tee shirt on the floor. The pajamas they'd shared the night before were at the foot of the bed. He got dressed and grabbed the empty mug, bringing it out with him. Floyd was lying on the kitchen floor, far enough away from Dean that he could simply glance up to stare at what he was cooking on the stove. Cas came up behind him, empty mug in hand, and Dean nodded towards the coffee maker.

"More coffee?"

Cas shook his head, setting the mug in the sink. "I'm probably going to go back to sleep once you leave, if that's okay."

"Fine by me."

Cas glanced down at the bacon Dean was pushing around the pan. "I'm surprised you even have bacon."

Dean shrugged. "I keep some stuff for guests and special occasions and shit. This was in the freezer." He set the spatula down on the counter and reached up into the cabinet, pulling out two plates. "I'm going to stop at the store on the way home, though. So I'll probably be back around two."

"I should be awake by then, but if I'm not just wake me up."

"Okay. I'll probably come back with the truck and we can go right to your mom's."

Cas' stomach sank. He had completely forgotten about that. "Okay."

"Here," Dean said, and Cas looked down and realized his plate was ready.

"Thank you." He picked up his plate and made his way to the table as Dean clicked off the burners and grabbed his own plate. He noticed Dean had only one slice of toast, two eggs, and a slice of bacon, whereas he'd given Cas two pieces of toast, what looked like three eggs, and three slices of bacon. He felt kind of sick as he looked at the two plates next to each other- was he really regularly eating double what a normal person ate?

Dean stared at him from across the table, chewing a bite of eggs-on-toast. "What?"

Cas shook his head. "Nothing," he said, picking up his fork. "It smells really good."

"It _is_ really good," Dean confirmed. "...You sure they checked you for head injuries?"

"Yes."

"Because zonin' out like that can be a type of seizure," he said, waving around the rest of his toast. "Absentee seizures. Just sayin'."

"I was just _actually_ zoning out. I was present. I was thinking."

"Okay. Just making sure. Can't in good conscious leave you here alone for six hours without checking." Dean smiled as he brought his glass to his lips.

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean nodded as Cas chewed on a piece of bacon. They continued eating in comfortable silence, until Dean pushed his plate away with a bit of scrambled egg left. Cas was still working on a few more bites of eggs and one more piece of bacon.

"I don't wanna go to work."

Cas smiled sadly. "I don't want you to either."

"I wish I could've had more time to show you around before leaving you here alone."

"It's okay. I'm going to be sleeping anyway."

Dean nodded. "You're right." He glanced down at his watch. "Shit, I gotta go." He stood up and grabbed his plate and glass, hastily setting them in the sink. "Um, help yourself to anything you find in the house," he said quickly, heading towards the door. He sat down on the small wooden bench against the wall and shoved his feet into his boots. "Call me if you need anything. Oh, and I have cameras everywhere but the bathroom." He shook his head. "Shit, I probably should've told you that a long time ago. It's mainly to watch Floyd or for evidence if someone breaks in." He tied the lace on his boot and stood up. "If you want me to take them down while you're living here I get it," he said, grabbing his jacket off the hook. "I just wanted to tell you before I left because I wouldn't want to be recorded when I thought I was alone. So..." He yanked his jacket on and fished his keys out of the pocket. "I gotta go though. I'll see you later."

"Have a good day," Cas called weakly after him, as Dean waved and slipped out the door. He hadn't been able to get a word in once Dean realized he was late; not that he'd had much to say anyway. He was kind of shocked about the camera thing though. _Every room but the bathroom..._ so there was one in the bedroom? That would explain why Dean became so flustered when he mentioned it. Maybe he thought Cas would be furious at the thought of their encounters being recorded. It made Cas feel a bit violated, yes, but it's not like Dean had done it on purpose. He'd always had them set up, and they were for surveillance, not making non-consentual sex tapes. He'd probably never gone back and watched them or anything, and if only a certain amount of time was stored, anything from the first three months of their relationship was probably long deleted by now anyway.

The only thing that would be on there was the night before... Cas cringed at the thought of seeing himself fucking... especially on top.

He finished his last slice of bacon and stood up, picking up his plate and bringing it to the sink. The dish drain was empty, so he washed the plates, pans, forks, and cups from breakfast and set them all in the drain to dry. After a quick cigarette on the back porch, he got undressed again and climbed back under the blankets. Dean's bed was ridiculously comfortable, and even with his sore neck, he was able to drift off quickly.

He woke up to the alarm he'd set for half past noon. Floyd was at the foot of the bed, snoozing lightly, and the room was a comfortable sixty-eight degrees thanks to the air conditioner in the window. He felt like he'd slept better than he had in years. He rolled over onto his stomach, wrapping his arms around the pillow next to him and breathing in deeply. It smelled like Dean, the blanket smelled like Dean, the bed and the whole damn room smelled like Dean.

He grabbed his phone and rolled onto his back again as he checked his notifications. He replied to a text from Gabe and scrolled through Facebook for a few minutes, before deciding he should get up and shower and brush his teeth. He called Dean from the bathroom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, um, hope I'm not bothering you, but is this blue toothbrush in the cabinet the same one I was using when I used to stay over?"

"Yep."

"Okay cool. Also, I need a shower..."

"Towels and washcloths are in the closet in the hallway. I don't know what to give you by way of clothes, but you can grab a pair of my boxers until I get back and then I can look for something?"

"I can wear my clothes from yesterday, it's fine. Although I'll take you up on the boxers."

"Top drawer of the dresser. You can take some socks, too, if you want."

"Thank you."

"I'll be out of here in about half an hour. Bobby said I can borrow his truck, so I'm just going to run to the grocery store really quick and grab some stuff and then I'll be home."

 _Home._ Cas caught the goofy smile on his face in the bathroom mirror as Dean said it. "Okay."

xxx

Cas had just finished smoking a bowl on the couch when Floyd jumped down and hurried towards the door. "What is it?" Cas asked him. "Is Daddy home?"

Floyd looked at him briefly but quickly returned his focus to the door as the knob turned and it opened.

"Hey, Floyd!" Dean said cheerfully, making his way in the door with four grocery bags. "Didja miss me?"

"We both did," Cas said from where he was twisted around on the couch, and Dean snapped his head up to look at him. A smile spread across his face, and he quickly crossed the room and leaned over the back of the couch to kiss him.

"Sorry I didn't do that this morning," he said awkwardly after they broke apart. He'd never lived with a partner before, not even Lisa, so he would've felt incredibly awkward just running up to Cas and kissing him while Cas was in the middle of eating, they were on opposite sides of the room, and the "mood" didn't call for it. But he'd wanted to, so he decided that from now on, he was going to.

"It's okay," Cas said. "What did you get at the store?"

"Just enough for the weekend," Dean said, heading towards the kitchen with the bags. "We'll go back Monday and do an actual grocery run." He set them down on the floor next to the fridge and rummaged around in them for a moment before pulling out a box of taco shells. "Lunch?"

Cas smiled and held up a joint he'd rolled in preparation for Dean's return. "Smoke?"

xxx

Half-way to his parents house, Cas made Dean pull over so he could have a cigarette. He paced a bit along the side of the road, and as soon as he finished the cigarette, he lit another one.

Dean got out of the truck and walked around to the passenger side. "Cas, are you okay?"

Cas sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "My mom is going to lose her shit."

"Why?"

Cas turned his eyes on Dean, frowning. "Because I didn't give her any notice. Because I'm leaving. Because I'm moving in with a man. The list goes on."

Dean pulled him into a hug. "It'll be okay, man. After today you won't have to deal with it anymore."

"I just wish I didn't have to deal with it at all," Cas said into his chest. "But I want my stuff, and I can't leave Roger there."

"I'll be there, Cas. You got this." He released him and took a step back.

Cas nodded, taking another drag off of his cigarette before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it. "You're right." He didn't want to tell him that that was part of the issue; he didn't want Dean to see just how fucked up and dysfunctional his family really was.

When they pulled into Cas' driveway, Cas might as well have been vibrating, he was so tightly wound. Dean reached across the seat to take his hand. "It'll be okay."

Cas looked like he didn't believe him, but he nodded and opened the door. They hopped down from the cab of the truck and walked up to the front door. Cas turned the handle and pushed it open.

"Mom?" he called, stepping over the threshold.

"I'm in the kitchen," she called back. "Where were you last night? You didn't come home."

He turned his head and nodded to Dean to come in, and as Dean closed the door behind him, Cas made his way towards the kitchen.

"Listen," he started, ignoring her question. "I'm really sorry to drop this on you like this, but... I'm moving out."

She turned from the sink, where she was washing dishes, and she actually looked amused. "...What?"

"I said, I'm moving out," Cas repeated.

She laughed, and Cas couldn't put a finger on how it made him feel. Somewhere half-way between ashamed and infuriated. "And where are you going to go?"

"I found a roommate," he said simply. It wasn't _exactly_ a lie.

"Sure," she said, turning back to the dishes. "Right. So when will you be leaving? A couple of months?"

"Um, no... Today."

She whipped back around, eyes narrowed. " _Really_. And this person is just going to let you move in with no security, no first month's rent? _Today?_ "

"...Yes. Although I have both of those things."

"You're lying. You knew about this and you chose not to tell me."

"No, I didn't-"

She cut him off. "Stop. I don't know why you insist on believing I'm stupid-"

Dean stepped out from around the corner to stand behind Cas. "He's telling the truth."

Her eyes moved to Dean and widened. "Is this- you- _the mechanic_?" she stammered, her eyes narrowing on Cas again. "You're moving in with the _mechanic_?!"

"Yes," Cas answered simply.

She looked between the both of them for a moment, and then her eyes narrowed further. "Is this the man you've been seeing, Castiel?" Before Cas could answer, she spoke again. "You really couldn't do any better than a _mechanic_?"

"Hey," Dean protested. "There's nothing wrong with being a mechanic. I make good money."

"Any moron could do manual labor," she said with distaste, barely sparing him a glance before turning on Cas again. "I would caution you to seriously reconsider this, Castiel."

"I've already made my decision," Cas said, his voice quiet but determined. "I'm not changing my mind."

She quickly crossed the room, reaching out to take his hands, and Cas' minuscule flinch didn't escape Dean's notice. "Castiel, please. Don't do this to us. We can get you help. You can find a nice woman."

Cas pulled his hands away and stepped back. "Mom, _stop_. I'm not doing this to hurt you. Why can't you see that?"

"Because everything your father and I want for you, you do the opposite!"

"Because I want to live my own fucking life!" Cas snapped.

Her eyes widened. "Language!"

Knowing it was hopeless, Cas rolled his eyes and turned away from her, brushing past Dean and walking across the living room. Dean started to follow him, but Naomi reached out and grabbed his arm as Cas disappeared down the hallway.

"What do you even see in him?" she asked in a frantic whisper. Dean blinked at her, dumbfounded, and she continued before he could even respond. "He's lazy, he's a slob-"

"Whoa- are you serious right now?" Dean snapped, finally finding his voice and yanking his arm away. "How could you say something like that about your own son? Are you that desperate for him to stay here and not move in with another guy? Christ, he doesn't like women! _Get over it_."

"This is about much more than his _perversions_."

"And if I recall correctly," Dean said angrily, "he told me you wouldn't even let him float a bill to get new clothes, so you only have yourself to blame for his clothes not fitting."

"Myself?" she sneered. "Maybe if he stopped stuffing his face they'd still fit."

Dean gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes at her. What he _really_ wanted to do was deck her, but he didn't want to go to jail for assaulting his boyfriend's mom, so he'd have to settle for a verbal thrashing. "You're a horrible person," he growled. "I really like your son, but even if he and I don't work out, I will make damn sure he _never_ has to come back here. You should be fucking ashamed of yourself." He turned and walked away from her, leaving her standing in the doorway to the kitchen in stunned silence.

Dean quickly crossed the living room and turned the corner into the hallway. Only one door at the end of the hall was open, with the light on, so he headed for that one.

Immediately to the right was a dresser, with a few random things strewn across the top. An empty bowl and cup sat on top of a closed laptop. To the left was an open closet, and straight across from the door was the rat cage. Along the far right wall was Cas' bed, and Cas was sitting on the edge, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Hey," Dean said quietly, stepping into the room and over a pile of clothes. Cas didn't lift his head, so Dean sat down next to him and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. "It's okay, Cas," he said, giving him a gentle shake. "Fuck her."

"How could she say those things?" Cas mumbled.

"It's alright, Cas, a lot of people don't respect manual labor."

Cas lifted his head to stare across the room, and Dean realized his eyes were wet.

"Oh... you heard the other stuff," he said quietly.

"She's said stuff like that to me before," he said quietly, dragging the palm of his hand across his face. "But... how can she say it to someone else? What the fuck is wrong with her?"

"Because she doesn't want me to take you away, Cas. She's desperate to say anything to get you to stay. I don't know why, but I don't care what she says. You're coming home with me, okay?" He took Cas' chin in his hand and turned his head, leaning forward for a kiss. "Okay?" he repeated when he pulled away.

Cas nodded. "It's just-" He looked away and took a deep breath. "I'm an almost thirty-year-old man and my mom just made me cry. It's fucking pathetic."

"Cas, stop it. Guys can cry. Let's just get your room packed up and get the fuck out of here."

Cas nodded again and sniffled deeply. "I'm sorry it's a mess," he said softly, wiping his palms over his face again. "I wasn't expecting to move, and... I've just been kinda... depressed the last few months."

"It's alright," Dean assured him. He felt horrible that he'd made things worse for Cas because of his own stupid insecurities, but he couldn't dwell on it. All he could do was help Cas now. "I'm going to go get the boxes and tape out of the truck, okay?"

Cas nodded again, and Dean stood up, running his fingers through his hair briefly to recollect himself before exiting the room. It took all of sixty seconds for Naomi to come stand in Cas' doorway while Dean was outside.

"What are you going to do when he gets tired of you, Castiel? You can't come back here."

"I don't care," he grumbled, looking away from her. He was sure his face was still a bit blotchy, and he absolutely hated giving her the satisfaction of seeing she'd made him cry. "I'll figure it out."

"That's not smart planning."

"Just let it go, mom," Cas pleaded. "Please. Just _leave me alone_."

"Is this the man that hurt you? You've been a miserable mess for three months, and what, he apologizes and now you're moving in with him? Do you realize how bad of a decision this is? How can you be so naïve? Or are you doing this just to spite me?"

"Just drop it!" Cas yelled.

She pursed her lips, and she looked like she wanted to say something else, but then she turned her head to look into the hallway.

"Can you do me a favor?" Cas heard Dean's voice come from around the corner, low and laced with anger. "Can you leave him alone until we're done? You can hash it out later."

"Fine," she said coldly, taking a step back so Dean could enter the doorway with the boxes.

Dean stepped past her and handed Cas a box. They started putting them together and taping the bottoms, ignoring her, so she let out an exaggerated sigh and walked away. Cas stood up and closed the door.

"She's a fucking nightmare," Dean muttered, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah," Cas agreed. "Try living with her for damn near thirty years."

"You're stronger than I am, Cas," Dean said, looking down at the box he was taping. "I would've offed myself." Cas was quiet, and Dean briefly wondered if Cas had considered it. But he didn't want to think about that, so he motioned toward Cas' closet without lifting his head to see Cas' face. "Bring me clothes."

Cas pulled a bunch of shirts out of the closet, dumping them next to Dean on the bed, and Dean began hastily folding them and tucking them into the box as Cas packed away his books. There was a small squeak, and Dean's head snapped up.

"Oh," Cas said. "How could I have forgotten to introduce you? This is Roger." He crossed the room and popped open the door to the cage, and Roger ran out, turning and climbing up the side of the cage. Cas wrapped his fingers around his little body and pulled him from the bars, holding him out to Dean.

Dean cupped his hands against his chest, and Roger settled there, before standing up on his hind legs to sniff Dean's mouth. He then began licking Dean's bottom lip.

"He's cute," Dean said.

Cas' lips stretched into a wide smile. "I'm glad you think so. A lot of people think rats are gross."

"Why?" Dean asked, pulling his head back to get a better look at the animal. "He looks clean, he doesn't smell or anything."

Cas shrugged. "I dunno. They can't see past the city street rat image, I guess."

"Do you want to put him back while we pack?"

"Nah," Cas said, reaching out and picking him up. "He can chill with me." He placed Roger on his shoulder, and to Dean's surprise, Roger settled there as Cas went back to packing his books.

It only took them about an hour to pack everything up. Dean had Cas do most of the packing and he made as many runs to the truck as he could alone. He didn't want Cas lifting more than absolutely necessary, considering he had whiplash. They removed the drawers from the dresser and loaded it up into the truck, then replaced the drawers and taped them shut. They put all of the boxes in front of it, and when they went back in for Roger's cage, Dean glanced in the closet to make sure it was empty.

"There's still a box in here," he commented.

"Um, yeah," Cas said uncomfortably. "It can stay."

"What is it?" Dean asked. It was tucked into the back corner of the closet, and it was small, no bigger than a shoe box. He wondered if there was anything important inside. He suddenly realized it might be a sex toy, and he was about to just drop the subject when Cas responded.

"Go ahead and open it," Cas shrugged.

Dean kneeled down and pulled it out, popping the top off to reveal a myriad of junk food- mostly chocolate. He realized that this was Cas' stash, and it made something twist up inside him. He had his own secret stash all those years ago, and it worried him that Cas was displaying similar behaviors.

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Doing what?" Cas asked.

"Hiding food."

Cas shrugged. "Since forever. As soon as I had my own money, I guess. I couldn't take anything from the pantry without my mom saying something, so..."

"Are you sure you want to leave it?"

Cas raised an eyebrow, although Dean couldn't see it, as he was still staring down into the box. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you could always get more and hide it from me, too." He paused. "If you want, I can hold onto this somewhere in the house, and if you want some, ask me and I'll get it for you, and just make sure you log it. You won't get anywhere _completely_ depriving yourself. You need to treat yourself once in a while, or you'll go nuts and end up binging."

"Do _you_ treat yourself?" Cas asked pointedly.

Dean finally turned his head to look at him. "Yes, on occasion."

"Fine," Cas said with a shrug. "Then bring it."

Dean wrapped a strip of tape around it and threw it into the last box that was sitting in the center of the room, with the last few of Cas' miscellaneous things and any of his stuff he'd grabbed from the bathroom.

"Are we done?"

"Yes," Cas said. "Just this box and Roger's cage."

"No sex toys under the mattress that you don't want your mom to find?" Dean teased.

Cas smiled. "Just an extra-large bad dragon. Hopefully it'll give her a heart attack."

Dean's eyes widened and Cas frowned.

"I was joking."

Dean cracked a smile. "About having a bad dragon toy, or hoping it gives your mom a heart attack?"

"Both," Cas answered. "Actually... maybe just the first one."

Dean brought the last box out to the truck, and when he returned, they lifted up Roger's cage. As they carried it out into the living room, Naomi had re-appeared and was sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand.

"Won't be sad to see that thing go," she said coldly.

Dean gritted his teeth as Cas shot her a glare. "Yeah, well, he doesn't like you either," Cas snapped. Clearly, as his remaining time with his mother dwindled down to nothing, so did his patience.

Naomi's eyebrows shot up on her forehead for a moment, before lowering again as she narrowed her eyes and took another sip from her glass. "So ungrateful," she muttered. "This is the thanks I get for letting you live here this long? You should've left a long time ago."

Dean realized he'd slowed to a stop when the bottom edge of Roger's cage dug into his stomach.

"Just ignore her," Cas mumbled, and Dean began walking again.

When they came back in, it was to survey the room one last time. There was nothing left but the bed, so they went back out into the living room, where Naomi was still seated on the couch.

"That's the last of it," Cas announced. Naomi only hummed in acknowledgement. "I'm going to need the money from my savings now."

Naomi looked confused for a split second, like she hadn't thought of that, before pursing her lips. "Consider it back-rent for all those years I didn't charge you."

Disbelief flashed across Cas' face, followed by anger, and Dean watched as he quickly squashed it down. "You did charge me rent," Cas pointed out calmly.

"Not until you turned twenty-one," she countered.

"You can't-"

"Cas, forget it," Dean tried, but Cas whipped his head around.

"I had like five grand saved, Dean!"

Naomi chuckled. "Not nearly that much after I paid to have that monstrosity fixed."

"You guilted me about that the entire time it was in the shop, acting like you were paying for it," Cas said through gritted teeth.

She only shrugged her shoulders lightly, and Cas closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "You know what? Fine. I don't fucking care."

This time she didn't comment on Cas' language, instead only raising her eyebrows again. She seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of Cas, and it infuriated Dean, but this wasn't his fight. It was so close to over- he just had to get Cas out the door- but Cas remained rooted to the spot, staring his mother down.

"Cas, come on," he urged. "I'll _give_ you five grand."

Cas turned his head to stare at him in shock. "Really?"

Dean nodded. "Yes, really. Despite your mom's opinion of my job, I make good money."

Cas cast one last glance at his mother, and as soon as he opened his mouth, the front door opened behind Dean.

"Oh thank god you're here," Naomi said, looking between them. "Tell your son he is making a terrible mistake."

Dean and Cas both turned around to see Bartholomew closing the front door behind him. He looked to his left and made eye contact with Dean, then gave him a curt nod and held out his hand. "Bart."

Dean glanced at Cas, who looked confused as hell, before taking his hand and shaking it firmly. "Uh, Dean."

Bart turned and nodded at Cas as well. "Cas."

Cas' brow drew together in further confusion. "Did... did you just call me Cas?"

"That's what you want to be called, isn't it?" Bart asked calmly.

Cas opened his mouth but didn't say anything, and the room was quiet until Naomi yelled, "What is going on here?!"

"Castiel is almost thirty years old, dear," Bart said, loosening his tie as he crossed the living room. "I think it's long overdue that he moved out."

Naomi stared at him in shocked silence, as Bart calmly set his briefcase on the coffee table and picked up the newspaper.

"Are you kidding? He can't even take care of himself."

"Hmm," Bart said, taking a seat in the recliner and opening the newspaper. "Perhaps he would be able to if you'd ever given him the chance."

"So you're just going to let him leave?"

"I'm not _letting_ him do anything. He's a god damned adult," Bart said, anger simmering in his voice. "And quite frankly I feel like we've all been tortured enough."

Dean's eyes widened and he immediately looked over at Cas. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted, and Dean was pretty sure he was speechless.

"I didn't mean it that way, Cas," Bart amended quickly. "I just meant that neither of us wanted this with each other. You weren't exactly planned. It's time for all three of us to stop living in a situation none of us can stand."

"I'm well aware of the circumstances regarding my conception," Cas finally said.

"What?" Naomi gasped, dropping her wine glass.

"And quite frankly I think both of your behavior has been disgusting. It was not my fault. I shouldn't have to suffer because _you two_ fucked up."

"How dare you speak of that!" Naomi yelled. "Bart, do something!"

"He's right, Naomi. Just let him go. Haven't we all suffered long enough?"

"Suffered?" Cas scoffed, and everyone in the room turned to look at him. "Are you fucking kidding? You have a great job and live in a nice house and have a normal life for the most part, and you really think that's justice for what you fucking did? Oh, boo-hoo, poor me, I raped someone and had to financially support the kid that resulted."

"Stop!" Naomi screamed.

Dean's jaw dropped. He'd already felt like he was intruding on a private conversation, but this was absolutely insane.

"Because that's all you did," Cas continued. "You've never been any kind of father, I barely even know you, and my entire life you've just stood by and let her run my god damned life!" he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Naomi. "You let her treat me like shit every day without so much as a word, and then you want to come in here and shake my boyfriend's hand and call me Cas like you've been on my side this entire time? Where were you up until now, huh? Do you have any idea what they did to me at that stupid fucking camp you let her send me to?!"

Cas stopped to take a breath and Dean was able to come to his senses enough to realize Cas was shaking. He quickly went to his side and placed a hand on his upper arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Hey."

Cas didn't acknowledge him, as he stared both of his parents down. "Fuck both of you," he finally said, his voice shaking, and then he took a step back.

Dean turned towards the door, tugging Cas with him. Both Naomi and Bart were silent, and Cas didn't even spare them another glance when he slammed the front door behind him.

Once they closed the doors to the truck, Cas sunk down in his seat, leaning his head back and letting out a heavy sigh. "God dammit," he said, and the words came out strangled as he tried to hold back tears. "That was horrible. I'm sorry you had to hear that."

Dean wasn't sure what to say, so he just reached over and placed his hand over Cas'.

Cas opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at him. "Did you really mean what you said?"

"About what?"

"If... If we don't work out... I don't have to come back," he said shakily.

"Yes, of course," Dean said with a nod, squeezing Cas' fingers.

Cas closed his eyes again, and Dean watched his features smooth out as he relaxed, watched his throat ripple as he swallowed.

"Cas... I don't know if you realize this, but... what she does? That- that's psychological abuse."

Cas exhaled sharply through his nose. "I know, Dean. Trust me."

Dean gave his hand one more reassuring squeeze before pulling his hand away and starting the truck.

"Hold on," Cas said quickly, popping open the door. "I have to get Roger." He climbed out of the cab, and Dean watched in the rear view as he took Roger out of his cage and carried him back into the truck.

Cas was quiet the entire ride, stroking Roger's head as he lay curled up on his lap, until they got back to Dean's house. They unloaded the truck in relative silence. They placed the dresser in the bedroom and the boxes in the guest room for now, until Cas had the time to sort through them and figure out where he was going to put everything.

"Where do you want to put Roger's cage?" Dean asked.

Cas shrugged. "Wherever we spend the most time would be best. Is it okay if he's in the living room?"

"Course. I just gotta get something to put his cage on." He grabbed an old card table from the attic, and they set it next to the TV and put Roger's cage on top of it. Cas held Roger in his hands and let Floyd sniff him, and to Cas' relief, after a quick sniff Floyd seemed disinterested.

"I was worried he may not like him," Cas admitted, straightening up as Floyd wandered away.

"Who? Floyd? Nah, he's pretty chill. Roger should be safe. But I'll take him for a walk to tire him out before we go get your clothes."

"Oh," Cas said as he put Roger back in his cage. "Right. I forgot about that." He paused. "I'm totally drained and my neck kind of hurts... Can I take a nap while you're gone?"

"Of course, Cas," Dean said, moving in on him and placing his hands on his waist. He wasn't surprised Cas was tired, between the physical exertion of moving and the emotional exhaustion of dealing with his mother- and all five days after a car accident. "It's still early. I'll take him for a long one. Go get some rest." He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "Do you need some ibuprofen?"

Cas shook his head lightly, and Dean noticed him wince slightly. "I grabbed my prescription."

"Okay. Go take some and take a nap."

"Thank you," Cas said, leaning his forehead into Dean's chest.

Dean pulled away. "Go on. Get undressed and lay in the bed."

Cas nodded, and as Dean walked to the front door and grabbed Floyd's leash, he made his way into Dean's- no, _their_ , bedroom. The realization made him smile as he stripped out of his clothes and climbed under the blanket.

But as he laid in the bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn't stop thinking about the events of the day. He couldn't believe what his mother had said to Dean. What fucking right did she have trying to scare Dean away? And he wasn't a slob, anyway. So he was overweight- big deal. He showered and brushed his teeth every day, and while his room had been messy, it wasn't _gross_. He'd always considered himself a clean person. What right did she have to say being fat negated all of that?

And the shit his _father_ had said. Acting like his life was really such shit when what he'd done to Naomi when they were kids was unexcusable. Yeah, Naomi probably treated him like shit, too, and living with her was no picnic, but he was probably half the reason she was as crazy as she was, anyway. So fuck him.

He rolled over onto his side and pulled the blanket up under his chin, tearing up a bit as he remembered Dean's words. _That's psychological abuse._ He wondered if his life would be different if one parent hadn't completely checked out and the other hadn't always been tearing him down, trying to convince him to hate himself.

His sleep was interrupted by Dean lightly shaking his shoulder.

"Hey."

He slowly opened his eyes to see Dean standing over him.

"Ready to go?"

"Yes... As much as I don't want to leave this bed," Cas groaned.

"When we get back we can get back in bed," Dean offered, smiling softly.

Cas smiled back. "Okay."

They dropped the truck back at Bobby's and took the Impala to the store. Cas was still tired, as he'd only slept for two hours; while it should've been a sufficient nap, it just served to leave him feeling groggy. But Dean stopped and got him a coffee, black, and he perked up again as they got to the store.

"Are you sure you want to go to Wal-Mart?" Dean asked, putting the car in park and peering at the building through the windshield.

"Yes," Cas sighed. "I don't want to be bombarded by sales people and Wal-Mart's employees leave you the hell alone."

"Okay," Dean said with a nod. "That's true."

"And I don't need anything special. I don't intend to be wearing these clothes for long."

xxx

As they drove back to Dean's, Cas stared at the cigarette in his hands.

"I really appreciate you buying my clothes, Dean. You didn't have to do that," he said quietly.

"I wanted to," Dean said, smiling over at him slightly before returning his gaze to the road.

"Well... thank you."

"Don't mention it, Cas."

Cas stared out the window, listening to Robert Plant's voice flowing through the speakers. "You know I don't actually expect you to give me five grand, right?" he blurted out suddenly.

Dean glanced over at him, chuckling as he returned his gaze to the road. "You can have it if you want. But I mostly said that to get you out of there and piss your mom off."

Cas smiled, still looking out the window. "Yeah. I don't even know what I'd do with it."

"Whatever you want."

Cas turned to face him. "Does Bobby really pay you enough to buy a house and pay all of your bills and have money left over? I mean, I know mechanic work is expensive, but..."

Dean laughed. "It's a very in-demand skill, so yeah, I make good money. But most people wouldn't have throw-away-five-grand money. But I've had the job for a long time, and... I don't have a family." He shrugged lightly. "And I don't really do much. So I save a lot."

Cas nodded, and the rest of the ride home was quiet, Dean humming along to the radio as Cas stared out the window. When they got back to the house, Dean let Floyd out back as Cas collapsed face-first onto the couch.

"Hey, dinner!"

Cas awoke with a start, rubbing his hand across his face. "Did I fall asleep again?" he mumbled, peering over the back of the couch.

"Yep," Dean replied from where he was standing at the sink, washing a pan.

Cas pushed himself up from the couch and made his way over to the table, pulling out his chair and sitting down. Dead made them each a plate of spaghetti with parmesan cheese, and in the center of the table was a bowl of salad and a plate of garlic bread. Dean had poured Cas a coke, and just as Cas took the first sip, Dean sat down across from him with a glass of water.

A few bites in, Cas set his fork down and swallowed to say, "You're a really good cook."

Dean laughed a little. "It's just spaghetti, Cas."

"My mother still managed to fuck that up. It was always still hard."

"Sounds like she was making it al-dente. That's the way some people like it."

"It was awful."

"I agree."

Another stretch of silence.

"So... how are you doing?"

Cas lifted his head to see Dean staring at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean after today."

Cas immediately looked back down at his plate, poking at the spaghetti with his fork. "I'm alright."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Cas shrugged. "Not really."

"Are you sure? I mean that was some heavy-"

"I'm sure."

Dean kept his eyes on him for a moment longer before taking a sip of his water. "Okay." Maybe Cas would want to talk about it later, but he wasn't going to push him.

Once they finished eating, Dean collected their plates and put them in the sink. He took a shower while Cas changed into his pajamas and picked a movie. When he came back into the living room, Cas was leaned back on the couch, taking the first few pulls from a freshly rolled blunt. Dean flopped back in the center of the couch, tossing one arm around Cas' shoulders.

"What're we watching?"

"Pineapple Express."

"Right, the one you told me about."

"It's _high_ time you've seen it." He paused. "Get it?"

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "You're a dork."

They spent the next two hours getting high, laughing their asses off, and sharing snacks. By the time the movie was over, Cas felt much better, the previous events of the day buried beneath pasta, THC, and sugar. As the DVD menu reappeared on the screen, Dean was getting quite handsy, so they stumbled down the hall and into the bedroom.

* * *

_"Oh, no, they say he's got to go_   
_go, go, Godzilla_   
_oooohhh_   
_oh, no, there goes Tokyo_   
_go, go, Godzilla!"_

"Cas... _Cas._ Your phone."

"It's too early," Cas grumbled, burying his face further into the pillow.

"It's almost ten o'clock," Dean responded.

One arm snaked out from beneath the blanket to slap the phone on the night stand. He swiped to answer without even lifting his head from the pillow. "Hello?" Dean watched as his head shot up and he winced at the sudden movement of his neck. "I'm not," Cas said coldly into the phone, mouth set in a deep frown. "Stop," Cas said loudly. "Just stop talking. I already told you I'm not coming back. Please, just..." He closed his eyes and sighed. "Don't call me again." He pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the screen to end the call, and then he threw it on the floor. "Fuck!" he ground out, dropping his head back into the pillow.

"I'm guessing that was your mom?" Dean asked quietly from where he was sitting on his side of the bed.

"Of course."

"So... you don't want any contact with your parents? Like, at all?"

Cas turned his head to look at Dean. "Am I wrong for that?"

Dean scoffed. "Fuck no. But maybe you should block her number."

Cas thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. She's still my mother. Maybe things just need some time to blow over."

Dean looked slightly skeptical. "Maybe." He stared down at Cas. "By the way, you're really cute when you just wake up."

Cas huffed a laugh and rolled onto his stomach to hide his face in the pillow. "Thank you."

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"I don't care."

"You wanna go out? I kinda wouldn't mind not cooking for a meal or two."

"Sure."

"Well, whenever you're ready. I'm gonna go feed Floyd and let him out."

Cas nodded and as Dean left the room, he rolled over and reached down to grab his clothes off of the floor before realizing that he had _all_ of his clothes now. They'd showered before bed, and he could actually put on clean clothes after staying over. Because he wasn't just _staying over_. He _lived_ there now.

Smiling to himself, he crossed the room to his dresser and began to get dressed. Of course, when buttoning his jeans gave him a problem, he was reminded he'd gotten new clothes- and of the recent weight he'd put on. As he changed into the new jeans, it made him feel guilty for going out to breakfast with Dean. But he had to remind himself that this was it; today was the last day, and tomorrow he'd need to completely change his lifestyle, so he might as well enjoy it while it lasted. Dean certainly looked like he was enjoying it, despite his hesitation when Cas proposed the idea on Friday night.

He took a moment to make the bed before sitting down on it and checking his phone. It had died early the day before, and with everything going on he'd completely forgot to charge it until they went to bed the night before. He had a few texts from Gabe, asking where he was on a Saturday night and why he wasn't at his party.

Cas hit reply and began typing.

**Cas: Sorry... yesterday was crazy. My phone was dead and I moved out of my parents.**

He was just slipping his phone back into his pocket when it went off with a reply.

**Gabe: im sorry what?**

**Gabe: WHere are you?**

**Cas: Uh... Deans.**

**Gabe: Oh OK. cuz that makes total sense. NOT. what the fuck. u actually left ur parents?**

**Cas: Yes... it's a long story.**

**Gabe: so are u gonna tell me orrrrr**

**Cas: Yes, I'll come over tomorrow.**

**Cas: When do you work?**

**Gabe: 3-9**

**Cas: What time should I come over?**

**Gabe: come at like 10**

**Cas: Okay. I have to go but I'll see you tomorrow.**

**Gabe: k**

Cas switched the volume off and shoved his phone into his pocket. He wasn't sure if Dean wanted to mix their laundry, so he put his dirty clothes in a small pile next to the laundry basket and made his way into the kitchen. He could see Dean through the glass door, sprawled back in one of the chairs on the patio, a glass of milk in his hand. Floyd was half-way across the yard, sniffing the grass lazily.

Dean turned his head at the sound of Cas opening the sliding door. "Hey," he greeted, smiling brightly.

Cas returned his smile. "Hey." He moved towards the chair past Dean as he flipped open his pack of cigarettes.

"Come sit on my lap."

"...Really?"

"Yeah. Unless you don't like the sappy stuff. I was kinda reeling it in before."

"I like the sappy stuff," Cas said, moving to stand in front of Dean. He positioned himself between Dean's legs and lowered himself down onto his lap. "Um... am I crushing your dick?"

"No," Dean chuckled, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Cas' middle. He rested the side of his face against Cas' back, inhaling slowly and letting it out in a sigh. As weird as it sounded, he was kind of sad that Cas was going to smell different now. Now he was going to smell like Dean's house, and Dean's laundry detergent, and Dean's bed. But beneath all that, he was still going to smell like Cas, so it was probably better this way. It just meant that he was Dean's now.

A click of a lighter interrupted the relative quiet as Cas lit his cigarette.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes, you're a very comfortable chair," Cas answered, blowing out a stream of smoke as he squinted out at Floyd in the yard.

"You should sit on me more often, then."

"That can probably be arranged." Cas shifted his hips as if he was trying to get more comfortable, conveniently grinding his ass against Dean's crotch as he did so.

"Easy," Dean mumbled against his back. "Don't give me a boner, we have to go out to breakfast."

" _Sunday breakfast_ ," Cas muttered. "But yeah. I forgot about that. I'm starving."

"Me, too. I forgot how quick you're hungry again after you eat crap."

"So good food really fills you up for longer?" Cas asked nonchalantly, bringing his cigarette to his lips for another drag.

"Depends what it is," Dean said, one shoulder bumping into Cas' back as he shrugged. "But for the most part, yeah. I mean... at first you're still gonna be hungry. For sure. But you need to give your stomach time to shrink a bit. I ate so much grilled chicken and salad to lose that first fifty pounds, because the chicken was low in fat, and high in protein. Protein keeps you fuller for longer. And salad or vegetables are low in calories but high in nutrients and take up a lot of space in there. Take longer to digest."

"Makes sense I guess."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, taking in the serenity of the morning. A crisp, cool breeze rustled through the trees, carrying a few dead leaves away into the neighbor's yard, and the air was filled with the sound of chirping birds. Floyd caught sight of a particularly large leaf, snapping at it as it fluttered past him before quickly losing interest once it'd hit the ground.

"I like your house," Cas said eventually, snuffing his cigarette out in the ash tray on the table.

"Me too," Dean agreed. He lifted his hips a few times, pressing his crotch up against Cas' ass. "Although it's much better with you here."

Cas twisted his head around and smiled down at him. "You're sweet."

"Mmm, you know what else is sweet?" Dean asked, still lifting his hips to hump up into Cas.

"What?"

"Maple syrup," he said, finally stilling his hips. "Which I'm going to drown some French toast in, and then devour."

"Right," Cas grunted, stretching his arms above his head until his back popped. "Breakfast." He stood up and turned around, and Dean was immediately standing behind him. Dean grabbed him by the face rather roughly, pulling it towards his own and pressing their lips together. They shared a few soft kisses and gentle gropes, until Cas slipped his tongue in and Dean had to pull away and drop his head.

"Fuck. We gotta go. I can't be walkin' around a restaurant with a fuckin' hard-on."

"Hmm... I wouldn't mind," Cas murmured, ducking his head to plant another kiss on Dean's mouth.

Dean kissed him back, but it was quick. "I'm hungry, man." He pulled back and looked past him. "Come on, Floyd!"

Floyd came trotting across the lawn and back onto the patio, and Dean turned to head back in the sliding glass door.

"I've created a monster," Cas muttered as he followed them in.

"Told ya," Dean smirked as he shrugged into his jacket. "Now come on. Last day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please tell me what you think, i need validationnnnn~ assure me that this isn't total word vomit! love you guys! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry that it's been almost 2 months since i updated. i suck, and this chapter was really hard. i of course spent ages reading and re-reading it and now i'm convinced that it sucks. is this why people have betas? i definitely wasn't planning on this being SO long, but i just can't make myself skimp out on detail in stories like these. they're so important. so just know that this work will definitely be finished, it just takes me a while to update. (also doesn't help that my updates are 20k words, lol)
> 
> HUGE TRIGGER WARNING for graphic depiction of childhood sexual abuse, way at the end of the chapter. if you want to skip it, it's obvious when it's coming up, just skip all of the italicized text because it's a flashback. i'm really sorry that i just can't stay away from hurt/comfort. i've been building up to this since like the second chapter.
> 
> anyway, i hope you guys like the update :)

As Dean asked the host for a booth for two, Cas scanned the crowded restaurant. Most patrons were dressed nicely, perhaps a little bit too much so, and Cas again realized with a sense of detached uneasiness that it was a Sunday afternoon; most of these people had probably just left church. He turned his head back to Dean just in time to see him following the hostess and waving him on.

As they slid into the booth, the hostess set two menus on the table. "Your server will be with you in just a minute."

"Thank you." Dean shot her a polite smile that she returned before walking back towards the front of the restaurant. He grabbed one of the menus and flipped it open, and Cas did the same. "Get _anything_ you want," he said, peering up at Cas.

Cas took in a deep breath. "I know exactly what I want," he said, lowering the menu onto the table and pointing to the first page. "That."

Dean lowered his own menu to follow Cas' finger. He was pointing to some 'big breakfast' item, a smörgåsbord of breakfast foods with some manly name, and even Dean doubted that Cas could finish it all. The most he'd seen him eat in one sitting were those six slices of pizza the second time they'd ever hung out, and even then, Cas had taken a break after like four slices. This meal included three slices of French toast, a four-egg ham and cheese omelette, and six slices of bacon.

He lifted his eyes to meet Cas' gaze, a small smile playing on his lips. "You can't eat all that."

Cas narrowed his eyes across the table. "Watch me."

Dean chuckled, looking back down at his own menu. "Okay, okay. Maybe I can find something small on here with a girly name."

Cas looked back down at the meal he'd chosen and it's weird, gendered name. "I don't really understand the stereotype that only men eat big, hardy meals. If anyone, shouldn't it be women? Don't they need extra padding and nutrients for making babies?"

Dean shrugged. "I guess. I don't really give much thought to the biological processes of baby-making." He lowered his menu again and pointed to a small description on the second page. "I'm gonna get this. French toast, eggs, and bacon."

As if on cue, a shadow darkened their table, and they looked up to see their waitress standing there. "Morning guys," she said, her voice reflecting clear disinterest as she pulled a pencil and a pad of paper out of the front of her smock. As soon as she looked up and caught Dean's eye though, she straightened up, and Cas didn't miss the way she pulled her shoulders back to accentuate her chest.

"Are you ready to order?" she asked sweetly, staring at Dean.

"Yeah," he responded, seemingly oblivious as he glanced back down at the menu. "I'm going to get this, but with the eggs scrambled. Please."

She smiled, a little too big, as she scribbled it down. "Okay. And to drink?"

"OJ." He expectantly looked over at Cas, and the waitress followed, too.

"And you?" she asked flatly.

"Um..." Cas looked back down at his menu, sinking down in his seat a bit. "That." He pointed at the picture, not even wanting to say the stupid name aloud.

"Drink?" she asked, as Dean reached across the table to grab Cas' menu.

"Milk."

She finished scribbling on her notepad and Dean handed her their menus. "I'll be right back with your drinks," she said to Dean, shooting him a smile before spinning on her heel and walking off.

Cas propped his elbow up on the table and leaned his cheek on his fist, staring at the sugar packets along the far end of the table. " _Some_ body likes you," he muttered.

Dean murmured a noise of agreement before looking away from the retreating waitress and over at Cas. "Guess so. Too bad for her I'm already spoken for."

Cas met his eyes and smiled. "Yes, that certainly is too bad for her."

"How'd you sleep last night?"

"What?"

Dean raised one eyebrow. "How'd you sleep...?"

"Oh," Cas said, straightening up and dropping his arm onto the table. "Uh, great. Your mattress was always very comfortable."

Dean smiled proudly. "Memory foam. How's your neck?"

Cas shrugged lightly, then tilted his head to both the left and right. "It's okay."

Their waitress returned with their drinks, setting them down in front of each of them. "Your food will be out shortly," she said, again focusing on Dean.

"Thanks," Dean responded, not even looking up at her and instead grabbing his straw as she walked off. He ripped open the wrapper and brought it to his lips, but when he blew out, the end of the sleeve just flapped a bit. Dean looked disappointed, and he brought the end up to his face for inspection. "Man, when I was a kid my mom and I would always shoot these at each other. Now-a-days they put holes in 'em so you can't. _Lame._ "

Cas picked up his own straw and looked at both ends closely, and sure enough, each end had a small hole in the wrapper. "Seems like it defeats the purpose of a wrapper to have a hole in it," Cas observed.

"Definitely." He watched as Cas ripped one end off and twisted the other so that it was sealed. Then, before Dean could react, he lifted the uncovered end to his mouth and blew. The wrapper sailed across the space between them, smacking Dean in the cheek, and he brought his hand up to rub it while feigning hurt. "Ow! Could've taken my eye out with that sharp, twisted end. Fuckin' psychopath."

Cas smiled. "Drama queen."

Dean smiled back, and they ended up just staring at each other for a sickeningly-sweet moment before he cleared his throat and glanced away. "So, uh, what day do you have to be back at work?"

Cas frowned. "Thursday. But then I have to take off again Monday because I have surgery."

Dean just stared at him, mouth open. "Surgery? For what?"

"Uh, my broken nose? Or did you not notice?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno, it's... kind of fucked up, but I thought it was just swollen or whatever."

"The swelling's already gone down for the most part..." Cas said.

"Oh," Dean said sheepishly. "Shit, sorry."

Cas chuckled. "It's okay. I know it's fucked up."

"So I assume that's why you're suddenly snoring?" Dean asked, lifting his glass to his mouth and taking a large gulp of orange juice. For all the time they'd spent talking about the straws, he hadn't even used it.

Cas gave him a blank stare. "I've been snoring?"

Dean lowered his glass. "Yep."

"That's... embarrassing. I hope I didn't keep you up."

"You're good," Dean said dismissively. "I could sleep through the apocalypse."

Their waitress returned a second time, a tray of food in her arms. She set everything down on the table and made eye contact with Cas briefly- most likely just to be polite- and then flashed Dean another smile. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you," Cas said quickly. She glanced at him again, then hurried off to tend to the table behind them, and Cas watched as Dean picked up his knife and began spreading butter onto his French toast. "Do you get that a lot?"

Dean raised his eyes and smiled. "You the jealous type?"

Cas frowned. "I guess that would accurately describe how I feel right now, yes."

Dean shrugged lightly, setting his knife down. "I guess I get it often enough. You don't?"

Cas had to think about it for a moment as he picked up his fork and cut into his omelette. "Not really in every day life. At bars and parties, sure."

"I'm surprised."

Cas raised one eyebrow. "Why?"

Dean shrugged again as he shook some pepper onto his eggs. "It's not like you're not good-looking, Cas."

Cas looked down at his plate, worried that he was going to start blushing. "Uh, thank you."

"Welcome," Dean said nonchalantly around a large bite of toast. "To be honest, I didn't think you'd say yes when I asked you out."

Cas looked up again. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno. I mean, the way you looked at me when you said you weren't into women kind of made me think you were dropping a hint- but I was still kind of afraid you'd say no and I'd look like an idiot. _And_ unprofessional for asking out a customer." He scoffed a laugh. "Can you imagine the Yelp review? _'Creepy older mechanic hit on me when I went in for an oil change.'_ Bobby woulda had my ass."

"Well I'm glad the look I gave you properly communicated my intent, and you took the chance."

"Me too."

"And you're not _creepy_."

Dean pointed his fork at him. "If you weren't interested, I would've been."

A minute or two passed as their interest shifted to their food, but then Dean cleared his throat and took a sip of his orange juice. "So, I was wondering where you were taking the Lincoln before you came to us for that oil change."

"Oh- uh..." Cas looked suddenly uncomfortable, swallowing down the bite of French toast he was working on. "When I first got the car I kind of just went wherever. Whoever was cheapest. Then for a while I was kind of seeing this guy... He was a mechanic, so-"

Dean laughed. "Oh, so is that what you see in me?"

Cas blinked, as if he hadn't even noticed the pattern. "No," he said, dead serious.

"Relax, Cas. I was joking."

"Oh. Uh, anyway... I just paid him to do it."

Dean frowned. "He made you pay him?" He thought back to their first three months together; Dean had changed Cas' brakes and Cas had tried to give him money, but he'd refused to take it.

"Well, I couldn't really expect him to pay for parts for _my_ car. And I don't really expect anybody to work for free, either. But he did everything in his driveway, so it was still cheaper than taking it to the shop."

Dean's frown softened. "I guess..." As Cas went back to eating, Dean watched him for a moment. "So... can I ask what happened?"

Cas didn't look up from his plate or stop eating. "He found someone he liked better," he said between bites.

"Were you together a long time?"

"A year," Cas answered. "So, not really."

"That's kind of a long time."

"I guess."

"...You know I'd never cheat on you, right?"

Cas stiffened and looked up. "I never said he cheated on me."

Dean held his gaze. "But... he did. Right?"

Cas narrowed his eyes, suspicion clear on his face. "How did you know that?"

Dean looked away. "Remember we went to Gabe's on the fourth of July? Well... when you guys were all out in the backyard, and you sent me inside to find Gabe, I saw him arguing with some guy in the living room. He ended up kicking him out. Later when Anna was puking in the bushes and you were holding her hair back, I asked Gabe who he was. He was pretty drunk by then and told me the guy was your 'douchebag cheating ex' and that he wasn't going to have that guy ruin your night by showing up. That he was either going to try to hook up with you, or someone else in front of you, and he wasn't having either of it."

Cas groaned and lowered his head, setting his fork down. "I really wish he would keep his mouth shut sometimes."

"I know, Cas, but he's a good friend. He cares about you, even though he has a weird way of showing it."

Cas picked his fork back up and poked at the remainder of his omelette. "You're right. I just... hate being _pitied_. It's why I never told any of them how bad it _really_ was with my parents."

"Most people aren't going to pity you, Cas. They might show you sympathy, but that's different."

"I guess."

Another few minutes passed as they resumed eating, and Dean finally stopped when he had only one slice of bacon left. Cas still had a slice of French toast and three strips of bacon remaining, and his pace was slowing down considerably.

"So... you nervous? For surgery?"

"A little bit," Cas admitted. "Mostly about a reaction to the anesthesia. ...What if I don't wake up?"

Dean could definitely understand. When he'd been anesthetized at five-hundred and fifty pounds, not waking up had been a very real fear. "Have you ever gone under before?"

Cas shook his head.

"Well, damn," Dean said. "I've lost count of how many times I've been under. You'll be fine. It's just like falling asleep and waking up."

"I hope so." He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it a bit before letting it pop back out. "...Will you come with me?"

"Of course," Dean answered without hesitation. "I'll call Bobby and tell him I need the day off."

"I'm sorry. I just... I need somebody to drive me home. My mom was supposed to do it, but..."

"It's fine, Cas. I'd want to come anyway." He wiped his mouth with his napkin and balled it up. "Do you want this?" he asked, pointing to his last slice of bacon.

"Uh, no, thanks," Cas answered, glancing down at what was left on his own plate.

Dean dropped his napkin onto his plate just as their waitress popped up seemingly out of nowhere. "You two all finished?"

"I am," Dean replied with a smile. "Thank you. And could we have two coffees please, black? Oh, and a slice of cherry pie."

She nodded and picked up Dean's plate. As she walked off, Cas began working on his last piece of French toast.

Dean drained the last of his orange juice and set the empty cup near the edge of the table. "Do you think your mom's going to show up at the hospital?"

Cas swallowed his food and shook his head. "I hope not," he said gravely. "But maybe. I'm sure if she knew where you lived she'd have shown up there by now."

"Where _we_ live," Dean said.

The corner of Cas' mouth turned up in a small smile. "Right."

The waitress came around again and set down their two cups of coffee and Dean's pie. "Anything else?"

Dean looked at Cas, who shook his head. "No, we're good," Dean said, and she nodded and set a little black folder on the table. Cas watched as Dean began to open the folder, but he picked it up an held it away from Cas, narrowing his eyes at him. "Don't be nosy."

"Why can't I see?" Cas asked, chewing a bite of bacon.

"You can if you really want, but it doesn't matter. I'm paying anyway."

"Okay," Cas mumbled.

Dean finally cracked open the folder and peeked inside. He tucked his credit card into the little flap, set the folder on the edge of the table, and began working on his slice of pie. Their waitress walked past and swiped the folder, and she returned a minute or two later and set it back down, along with a pen. She took Cas' finally empty plate and glass and hurried off again.

Dean opened it to sign his receipt and chuckled lightly, a small smile spreading across his lips.

"What?" Cas asked.

Dean turned it around to show Cas. On the top was a phone number, and beneath that: _Samantha_ , followed by a little heart.

Cas frowned and narrowed his eyes at Dean over the folder. "Why would you show me that?"

Dean held his gaze. "Maybe because it's kind of hot when you get jealous."

Cas looked away and shook his head in amusement, a small smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

Dean put his credit card back in his wallet and picked up the pen. He signed the first copy of the receipt, and on the one he was supposed to keep, beneath her note, he wrote: _Sorry, you're very attractive but I'm happily taken._

Cas watched him write it and didn't say anything, instead slowly sipping on his coffee. Dean stuffed a tip into the folder, closed it, and slid it to the edge of the table. He picked up his coffee and took a large swig before working on the last few bites of his pie.

"I've never seen anyone do that before," Cas finally said.

Dean shrugged, scraping the last of the filling off of the edge of the crust. "I'd want to know why someone turned me down."

"I guess."

Samantha returned again, and Cas wondered how she was able to stop by every two minutes when the place was so busy. He glanced past her and noticed that at least half of the restaurant had cleared out already, and two guys were hurrying about, busing tables. He turned his attention back to their table and Samantha had opened the folder, her eyes scanning over what Dean had written. Dean looked a bit uncomfortable, as if he hadn't expected her to read it in front of him.

She closed the folder and looked down at Dean with a soft smile. "She doesn't need to know."

Dean's entire demeanor changed instantly. "Uh, no," he said, frowning deeply. "I don't operate that way. And _he_ is right there." He pointed across the table at Cas.

"Oh- um-" She took a step back, clearly caught off guard, her face darkening in embarrassment. "I- sorry. ...Have a nice day." She spun in place and hurried off towards the back of the restaurant.

Dean raised his eyebrows, mouthing _wow_ as he picked up his coffee. "Awkwardddd."

"Yeah. That was weird."

"So, uh, _anyway_ , what d'you wanna do today?"

"What do you mean?"

Dean shrugged. "I just figured we could go out and _do_ something. I dunno. It's the last day of the Ren Fest."

Cas blinked in surprise. "You want to go to the Renaissance Festival?"

"Um... if you want... Charlie would probably be down. And you can ask Gabe to come. Although, he probably hates my guts."

"He doesn't-" He cut himself off. "He'll get over it." He smiled. "Anyway, that sounds fun."

Dean returned his smile, and Cas could tell he was trying not to seem too excited. "Awesome. Um... if they can't _both_ come, though, I'd kind of like it to be just us, so... let me ask Charlie first. She won't care if I cancel on her."

"Okay."

Dean pulled his phone out and opened up his never-ending conversation with Charlie.

**Dean: hey... what are you doing today?**

**Charlie: netflix binge. and ice cream. also a binge. in my pajamas. why?**

**Dean: okay soooo if I go to renfest, would you come?**

**Charlie: sure. when tho? it's already like noon**

Dean looked up. "She's down. Text Gabe."

**Cas: Where are you?**

**Gabe: my house? why? r u here?**

**Cas: No. Do you want to go to the Renaissance Festival? Like... now?  
**

**Gabe: uh OK. better than what i had planned, anyway. do u want me to pick u up?**

Cas looked up from his phone. "He wants to know if he should pick me up. ...Maybe I should let him, so I can have a chance to talk to him."

Dean frowned. "Yeah, I should talk to Charlie, too."

**Cas: Yes please.**

**Gabe: where does dean live**

**Cas: I'm in town. Dean's meeting us there with a friend of his.**

**Gabe: uh OK didn't kno he was coming :|**

**Cas: Don't be a dick.**

**Gabe: fine**

**Gabe: address?**

"He's going to pick me up."

"Alright, I'll pick up Charlie."

**Dean: i was thinking now...? i can pick you up.**

**Charlie: okay you can head over but i need to get dressed**

"It's going to take Gabe at least twenty minutes to get here."

Dean scratched his chin thoughtfully. "We could smoke a joint in the car."

Cas drained the last of his coffee and lowered his mug, grinning widely. "I like the way you think."

* * *

"There's Gabe," Cas said, pointing to a blue Subaru as it pulled into the lot.

Dean watched as Gabe pulled into a parking space and put the car in park. "Are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

Dean turned to face him. "Y'know... why I did what I did."

Cas hesitated. "I...m guessing you don't want me to."

"Not really, but..." He exhaled a tired-sounding sigh, looking back out the windshield at Gabe's car. "I also don't want your friends to hate me."

"It's not like I have to go into detail," Cas offered. "And it's not like you're the first person to let self-confidence issues effect a relationship."

"I guess."

"Doesn't everybody else in your life know? Or do you hide your scars from them, too?"

"No... they know," Dean said quietly, chewing on his thumbnail.

"So..." Cas trailed off.

"You're right," Dean said, dropping his hand away from his mouth. "It's fine."

"I mean... do _you_ want to tell him?"

"No."

"I'll be vague."

Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, still staring out the windshield. "You know what? It's fine. Tell him whatever you want."

"...Are you sure?"

"Yes," Dean answered immediately. "I don't care about anyone's opinion but yours." He finally turned his head again to look at Cas, who met his gaze with a warm smile.

"That's the spirit. Although... you probably shouldn't care much about mine either."

Dean looked at him closely. "Why not?"

Cas hesitated, trying to think of how to answer that. "I don't know. I'm not really qualified to make decisions regarding my own life, let alone anyone else's."

"I definitely care what you think, Cas."

Cas smiled as Dean leaned forward, meeting him half-way across the seat for a kiss. "I'll see you there."

"Okay. I'm just going to run home and let Floyd out and then go pick up Charlie."

"Okay," Cas said, pushing open the car door. "See you soon." He climbed out and closed it behind him, and as he walked off, Dean just hoped that Gabe would be as understanding as he was.

"Hey," Cas said as he opened the door to Gabe's Subaru.

Gabe looked up from his phone. "I was just texting you," he said as Cas got into the car. "Have a nice morning-after breakfast with Ken doll?"

Cas rolled his eyes, although he thought it was pretty ironic that, while Dean thought so little of himself, others thought he was the image of perfection. He'd have to tell Dean that later. "Yes, I did, as a matter of fact. And I think the whole 'living together' thing kind of negates the hook-up vibe you're implying."

"I guess," Gabe muttered, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the spot. "So what did he have to say for himself?"

"Um..." Cas floundered a bit, unprepared to have to explain so soon. "He had a good reason."

"Right," Gabe said sarcastically.

"He did," Cas insisted, "Although I don't really have to justify anything to you."

"Guess not, but I did tell him I was gonna kick his ass if he hurt you. So."

Cas crossed his arms. "Well I'm pretty sure he could take you."

Gabe shot him a grin. "Wanna bet?"

Cas sighed, unfolding his arms. "Gabe, please. I'm seriously asking you to let it go."

"Well you're too nice!" Gabe said loudly, suddenly, and it caught Cas off guard. "I'm tired of people taking advantage of you and you just letting them. I want to know what this reason was that's apparently so valid it justifies dumping you for no reason without any fucking explanation!"

Cas was quiet, opting to retrieve a cigarette from his pack and lighting it. He rolled down the window and took a drag. "There was something that needed to be addressed before our relationship could continue," he said mechanically. "Due to his own issues, he didn't feel ready to address it, so he cut and run. And then he felt like shit about it so he apologized. End of story."

"End of story? Apologizing doesn't take back what he did, or the three months you were a miserable, drunk mess." Cas winced; so maybe he'd kind of overdone it on the drinking. "If he cared about you so much, what the fuck was such a big deal he'd rather break up than just talk about it?"

Cas glared at him. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"You know I don't."

Cas sighed and took another drag off of his cigarette. "Years ago he was pretty solidly overweight. After he lost it, he had skin removal surgery. He's got some scarring. He didn't want me to find out."

Gabe was quiet for a moment, eyebrows pressed together, before, "That's it?"

"Yes."

"But... why would he think you'd care? I mean..."

"Yes, Gabe, I know."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"You don't have to be. I don't care. Anyway, he was bigger than I am, even now, so... I dunno. I guess it fucked him up."

"Like... how big?"

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not... I still don't think that's a good reason for what he did, though."

Cas shrugged lightly, flicking the ash off of his cigarette and out the window. "You don't have to. It's my decision, and I'm asking you to please give him another chance."

Gabe took a deep breath. "Okay."

"...Really?"

"Yeah. I'll trust your judgement."

Cas was shocked into silence, so he smoked his cigarette and stared out the window as Gabe merged onto the highway. "There might've been something else," he said finally.

Gabe smacked the steering wheel. "I fucking knew it."

Cas rolled his eyes. "My eating habits were kind of... rubbing off on him. I guess he'd put on weight again, and I think he thought saying something would hurt my feelings."

Gabe quickly shot him a skeptical look before returning his eyes to the road. "Oh, but breaking up with you wouldn't?"

Cas opened his mouth and snapped it shut again, unsure of how to dispute that. Finally he settled on, "He feels pretty fucking bad about it, I can tell."

"Well he should."

"Well he does," Cas snapped. "So let it go."

"Fine, christ. You're the one who brought it up again." Cas didn't respond, so Gabe gestured towards the glove compartment. "Pack a bowl."

Cas popped the glove box open and retrieved Gabe's glass pipe and a baggie with about a gram in it. "I don't know why you insist on smoking bowls while you drive," he said, breaking the bud up into the head of the bowl.

"Not everyone likes smoking joints all the time."

"Yeah, well, that's why you have a UPM and I don't."

"Fuck you."

Cas smiled as he shoved the baggie back under some papers in Gabe's glove box. Checking the side mirrors to make sure no one was coming up too closely behind them, he brought the pipe up to his lips and and took a large hit. He then passed it to Gabe, who held the steering wheel in place with his knee while he did the same.

"So," Gabe said after a few minutes of smoking, "What do you plan on doing about fucking up his eating habits?"

"After today I'm not going to eat crap in front of him anymore," Cas answered simply. It was weird, but for some reason he found himself not wanting to mention to anyone that he himself was going to be eating better. Maybe because he was pretty sure he was going to fail, and he didn't want everyone to _know_ he'd failed. It was a lot easier to pretend he wasn't trying. If he lost weight, great. If he didn't, no one but Dean would know that he was a failure.

"After today?"

"Well... yeah. What the hell else is at the faire besides crap?"

Gabe pondered that for a minute. "Pickles."

Cas scoffed. "Right, because we're totally going to spend the day at the faire and eat nothing but three dollar pickles. I can get an entire jar at the store for three dollars."

Gabe nodded. "True, true. Buuuut... they're not served cold out of a barrel by a sweaty guy wearing tights."

Cas smiled, blowing out the last hit of their second bowlpack. "I would argue that that's a good thing," he said through a cough.

Gabe dissolved into a fit of stoned laughter, and Cas followed suit, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a long time.

* * *

_I used to think maybe you loved me_  
_now I know that it's true_  
_And I don't want to spend my whole life_  
_just a-waiting for you_  
_Now I don't want you back for the weekend_  
_Not back for a day, no no no_  
_I said baby I just want you back_  
_And I want you to stay_

_I'm walking on sunshine_

A pounding on the door caused Charlie to stop mid-dance. She padded over to the radio and turned it down before opening the front door for Dean.

Dean slipped in and closed the door behind him with a heavy thud. "I thought you were getting ready?" he asked.

"I am!" she said quickly, holding up the hairbrush she'd been using as a microphone. She ran it through her hair in one long stroke, scalp to ends, and it didn't snag once. She smiled. "See?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Put some pants on, woman."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered. She disappeared into her bedroom and Dean followed her, leaning on the door frame as she pulled on a pair of jeans.

"Not dressing up this time?"

She shot him an unamused frown. "Uh, no, because it's going to be like two by the time we get there, and it's kind of hot, and, oh- _I already dressed up on opening day!_ "

Dean looked away. "Yeah... I'm sorry I didn't go."

"Me too," she said, plopping down on the edge of her bed and pulling on some socks. She stood up again and raised one eyebrow, hands on her hips. "Why are we going all of a sudden, anyway? You finally out of your funk?"

Dean shrugged, trying not to smile.

"What the fuck is that face," Charlie said flatly.

Dean exhaled in a laugh and finally smiled at her. "Guess who we're meeting there?"

Charlie stared at him for a moment, trying to think of what could actually cheer Dean up after months of moping. "Benny? Are you guys fucking again?"

Dean frowned slightly. "Uh... no."

"I have no idea," she admitted.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas! Jesus."

Charlie's eyes lit up and she actually bounced in place. "Oh my god, really?" Her face fell and she froze. "Are you serious?"

Dean met her eyes and nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Yeah. I told him everything." He cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "Maybe, uh, too much. But he didn't run off, so."

"Yay!" she squealed, jumping forward and throwing her arms around him. "Oh thank god," she said into his chest. She leaned back and let go of him, raising one hand to pat his chest. "I'm proud of you. Told you seeing Missouri would help."

"Uh, yeah," he mumbled. "I actually still didn't really approach him... He, um..." He sighed. "I got to Bobby's one morning early this week and his car was there, a little smashed up. Guess he hit a deer. Took me almost all week to get it done-"

"No wonder you were MIA all week."

"Yeah, was pretty busy. Fixin' his car and thinkin'." He paused. "Anyway... when he came in to pick it up I asked him if he'd let me explain. He came over and I told him everything."

"Aw," Charlie said, giving him a smile before looking away to locate her sneakers. "That's good." She found her sneakers and slipped one foot in.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "He moved in with me," he added suddenly.

Charlie looked up from where she was knelt down tying her shoes. "What? Already?"

Dean swallowed and nodded. "I don't want to be away from him, Charlie... even for like five seconds," he said shakily.

Charlie stood up and met his eyes. "Oh my god... you love him, don't you?"

Dean held her gaze and nodded again. "Yeah," he confirmed, and this time, his voice didn't shake. "I do."

* * *

**Cas: Hey, we're here.**

**Dean: hi cas! it's charlie! deans driving, we are still like 20 mins away sorry :(**

**Cas: Hi Charlie :) It's okay, we'll wait by the entrance.**

**Dean: OK ill txt you when we're there. i am so happy to see you! im so glad dean pulled his head out of his ass  
**

**Cas: Lol... Me too.**

Cas sighed and pocketed his phone. "They're still twenty minutes away. I'm going to walk over there a bit and smoke a cigarette before we go inside."

Gabe nodded and followed him away from the entrance and along the edge of the road, until they were a decent distance from any other guests standing near the entrance. Cas lit a cigarette and took slow, even pulls as he stared at the trees across the street.

"So you moved out of your moms?" Gabe said. Cas nodded. "That's... big."

"Yeah," Cas agreed. "About fucking time."

"Yeah," Gabe said awkwardly. "How did that go?"

"About as well as you'd imagine," Cas responded flatly.

"...I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it."

"You'd be correct."

"Well I'm glad, either way."

Cas' shoulders sagged as a ton of tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding melted away. "Me too."

"What's Dean's house like?"

He was clearly just trying to make conversation, but Cas appreciated it. "It's nice. Not too big. Two bedrooms and a bathroom. Nice backyard." He shrugged. "Normal house."

"Is he expecting you to pay half the mortgage, or what?"

Cas chewed on his bottom lip. "We haven't really discussed it."

Gabe frowned, and Cas could feel him staring at the side of his face. "You agreed to move in without knowing how much it would cost?"

Cas turned his head and narrowed his eyes at him. "To be honest, I don't care. I'll give him everything I have to be with him and away from my mother." He paused, looking out across the street at the cars slowly filling the ten-dollar VIP lot. "These past few months were horrible. She was worse than ever before. She almost killed Roger."

"What?" Gabe exclaimed.

"Yeah. I was trying to cook and she came into the kitchen really drunk. She tried to grab the pot of boiling water off the stove, and I didn't want her to burn herself, so I tried to stop her. She actually physically fought me over it, while Roger was on my shoulder, and he fell off and was like one second away from falling into the fucking pot." He sighed. "If I didn't catch him... that would've been it."

"Jesus christ, dude."

"Yeah. I know." He took a long drag off of his cigarette. "I was at the point where once Roger passed I wasn't going to get any more rats. I was going to leave, even if I had to be homeless." He paused. "He's already three, you know."

"I know."

They passed the remaining time discussing what they wanted to see at the faire, until Cas spotted Charlie's bright red hair a few yards past the opposite end of the entrance. He tossed the butt of his second cigarette on the ground and stomped it out before brushing past Gabe. "C'mon."

They met up right in front of the entrance, and both pairs stopped directly in front of each other.

"Hi," Dean said stupidly, smiling at Cas.

"Hi," Cas said back.

"Oh, god," Gabe groaned, rolling his eyes and throwing his head back. "You two are the absolute worst."

Cas frowned. "Charlie, this is Gabe. Gabe, Charlie."

Gabe gave Charlie his most charming smile. "Well good day, m'lady," he crooned.

Charlie snorted a laugh. "You're lucky we're at the faire. Only time that's acceptable."

Gabe winked at Dean and Cas as he and Charlie turned and headed towards the ticket booth.

"Um... isn't Charlie gay?" Cas asked.

Dean laughed as they began to follow them. "Yes."

"I thought Gabe had better gaydar than that."

"It might be better than you think." At Cas' confused look, he explained, "She's hooked up with guys on occasion. Don't let her fool you." Cas was quiet, processing that, and then Dean asked, "You've never done _anything_ with a girl? Even just out of curiosity? Boredom?"

"Nope. I don't find them attractive, at all, so I've never had the desire to."

"If I'm being honest... I kind of figured with all the anti-gay stuff you had to deal with that you would've at least tried it."

"What? Why?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. To see if it was good enough to at least _pretend_ to be straight for." Cas looked almost offended, and Dean scrambled to explain himself. "Just to get everybody off your back. I did something sort of similar," he said quickly. "I liked guys first. Girls seemed alright but they weren't what really, um, excited me. My parents had no idea, so once I, uh, got out there, I wanted to meet a girl. I did, and we got along. She was nice and I really did like her, and it's not like I didn't find her attractive, so I figured I could just avoid admitting I liked guys forever if I ended up with her."

Cas glanced behind them to make sure the people behind them weren't close enough to hear their conversation. They were a few feet away, engrossed in their own conversation, and the crowds around them were loud as well. At the entrance, a man in a costume was yelling and ringing a bell. He turned back to Dean. "...So what happened?"

Dean lowered his eyes. "Um..." He glanced over and saw that Charlie and Gabe were next in line. "I'll tell you later, alright?"

Cas nodded and Dean stepped forward, poking his head between Gabe and Charlie. "I got the tickets."

Gabe leaned back to look him in the eye, raising one eyebrow. "What? Why?"

Dean shrugged. "Because I invited y'all out last minute. So, use that money for something inside I guess."

Gabe's eyes flicked over to Cas, standing behind Dean, and Cas nodded rapidly. Gabe met Dean's eyes again. "Uh, okay. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Dean mumbled, placing a one-hundred dollar bill on the counter and sliding it under the plexiglass. "Four, please." The woman behind the glass slid four tickets across the counter, and Dean swiped them up, plucking one out of the pile and handing it to Gabe. "Seriously, don't mention it." Charlie swiped hers out of his hand and skipped off towards the entrance, and Dean took the last extra ticket and handed it to Cas.

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean only nodded, and together they followed Gabe to the entrance. Charlie was standing inside the gates already, and as soon as they stepped through, a man dressed in costume held up a basket of flyers. "Maps, two dollars!"

Dean held up one hand in polite refusal. He and Charlie had been there enough times over the years to know where most everything was. Immediately on their left was a food stand, and Dean nodded towards it. "Drink?" Cas nodded. "That hike over here from the free lot was pretty crazy, huh?"

"Yeah," Cas huffed. "That was bullshit."

"What do you want?" Dean asked as they got in line.

Cas squinted at the menu. "Soda?"

Dean nodded, and when they got to the counter, he ordered a lemonade and a Coke. Cas tried to give him money, but Dean refused.

"Dean, these were three dollars each."

"So? Don't worry about it."

Charlie and Gabe got drinks as well, and then they headed down the path towards the shops. The trail split, and they veered towards the right. They walked for a while, sipping on their drinks and observing the staff interact with the crowd. Dean watched Cas for a while as his eyes darted all over the place, taking in everything he possibly could.

"You've been here before," Dean asked, "Right?"

"Yes. But it was probably about six years ago now."

"Oh, wow," Charlie said. "Dean and I come every year. Sometimes multiple times. Well, I always come multiple times. Dean sometimes. He didn't come at all yet this year until... today..." She trailed off as she realized how what she'd just said sounded.

"What's all this talk about coming?" Gabe asked.

"Ugh, please stop," Dean groaned as Charlie giggled. "We can stop at any place you want," he said to Cas. "We have a coupla hours, look around."

Cas nodded, but they didn't stop until they passed a pewter shop. Cas leaned forward and peered into the first display case, looking at all of the little pewter figurines. Dean came up next to him and looked in, too. "That one's cute," Dean said, pointing to a fox on the second shelf. It was crouched down on all fours, slinking across the surface of the glass.

"Yeah," Cas agreed. "It is."

"Hello, m'lordes," a woman's voice sang. "How can I help thou on this fine day?"

Dean smiled. As many times as he'd gone to the Ren Fest, the first half hour or so he was always caught off guard by the language and the accent. He certainly had to give props to the staff for staying in character; acting was no joke, and it was all improv at an event like this. "Hi, how are you?"

The woman behind the counter, a brunette in her mid-twenties dressed in a tight corset that didn't leave much to the imagination, smiled brightly. "I'm just fine, thank you."

"How much is the fox?" Cas asked.

"Oh, the sly fox I believe is twenty," she said, sliding open the back door to the display case. She picked him up and flipped him over, reading the little price tag on his belly.

Dean turned to Cas. "Do you want it?"

Cas looked back at the woman, and she held the fox out for him to take a better look. He took it from her and held it up closer to his face. The metal held a lot more detail than he could see before- lines to denote the change in fur color, gentle strokes in the direction of the fur growth, little claws on it's toes. He looked back at Dean, who was watching him closely, and nodded.

Dean looked back over the case at the woman. "We'll take it."

"Wouldst thou like a bag, or a box?"

"Um, box, please," Cas answered. She bent down to get a box from underneath the counter, then took the fox from Cas. She placed it in the box, tying it with a ribbon and handing it back to him. Dean handed her a twenty, and she smiled widely. "Thank you, good sir!"

Cas looked down at the box in his hands as they left the little shop. Gabe and Charlie were having their own conversation out on the path as they waited, and they began walking again as soon as they noticed Dean and Cas coming up behind them. Dean threw the arm holding Cas' drink around his shoulder, pulling him up against his side as he took a sip of his lemonade.

Cas looked up at him as they stumbled behind Charlie and Gabe. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Cas. You get whatever you want today."

"Are you sure? The stuff here seems expensive."

"I'm sure, Cas. Let me spend some of my money. It's no good unless you spend it."

Cas nodded. "It's hard to walk like this."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, releasing Cas' shoulders. "Want your drink?"

"Yes, please." Cas took the cup from Dean, chugging the last quarter of it and dropping it into a garbage bin as they passed.

They walked around for another hour, and then they found themselves in the center of all of the food stands.

"I'm starving," Gabe announced. "Lunch?"

Charlie agreed, so they all got in line.

"What do you want, Cas?" Dean asked as they sidled up behind Charlie and Gabe.

"Uh..." Cas peered across the line at the menus hanging inside the walls of the stands. "Well... what do you want? Because I kind of want two things, so if you want the same things maybe we can split them?"

"Sure," Dean answered, still peering at the menus. "What do you want?"

"The turkey leg and the onion blossom?"

Dean gave him an odd look. "You don't sound sure."

"Well... is that what you want?"

"Yes, if it's what you want."

Cas nodded. "Yes."

"Okay. Then that's what we'll get."

They got their (quite expensive) food, and after three minutes of wandering around, found an available table.

"After this, I want to stop in the leather shop," Charlie said, twisting in her seat to look behind her. "And then I want to see a show."

"Which one?" Dean asked, ripping off a few pieces of the fried onion and dunking them into a cup of ketchup.

"We've seen them all so many times, we should pick one Cas will like."

Cas set down his cup of beer and licked his lips. "Oh, I don't... I don't care. I'm sure they're all good."

"For the most part, yes," Charlie said, dipping a fry into Dean's ketchup. Next to her, Gabe sipped on a root beer float and demolished a cheeseburger. "We should go to that adults-only one." Dean nodded as Charlie checked the time on her phone. "It starts in forty-five minutes."

They made small talk for a few minutes, and then Cas held the remainder of the turkey leg out to Dean.

"Aw, you actually saved me some of the skin," he commented, sliding his plate with the onion blossom over to Cas.

"Why wouldn't I?" Cas asked.

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. 'Cause it's the best part?"

"So give it back then."

"What? No, too late now," Dean said, moving the turkey leg away from Cas and pointing behind him. "Hey, look, a dog." As soon as Cas turned his head, he took a huge bite out of the turkey leg.

Cas turned around to see a greyhound, dressed head to tail in medieval garb, by the entrance to one of the shops. Next to it, it's owner was also dressed in costume, talking to someone in street clothes.

"Does that person, like, work here, or something?" Gabe asked. "I didn't think they allowed dogs in here."

"They're drinking a beer, so I'm going to say no," Cas said. "It's probably a service dog."

"Oh, yeah, I saw them here on opening day," Charlie commented. "It's definitely a service dog. Her name is Perdita."

"Who's name?" Gabe asked.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "The _dog_."

"But... Perdita was a dalmatian."

Charlie shrugged. "So? And Gabriel was an angel, not a human."

Gabe gave her a sly smile, waggling his eyebrows. "Pretty sure Charlie was an angel, too."

"TV doesn't count."

"But... _101 Dalmatians_ was TV..."

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Dean asked.

Charlie took the opportunity to change the subject. She eyed the nearly finished turkey leg in Dean's hand. "It's been a long time since I've seen you eat this much greasy crap in one sitting. You usually eat like a bird."

Dean regretted even opening his mouth. He should've just let them continue arguing about dalmatians and _Charlie's Angels_. "Uh... so?"

"I'm just surprised you still can," she said with a shrug. "You aren't feeling sick?"

Dean frowned and narrowed his eyes. "Well, I'm pretty sweaty, does _that_ answer your question?"

Gabe glanced over at Cas, who shook his head in a plea for him to remain silent.

"It's like eighty out here, of course-" Charlie started.

"Hey, Dean," Gabe said quickly, and Cas dropped his face into his hand, stifling a groan. "Cas told me. It's cool. Uh, good on you, y'know? I probably wouldn't have been able to do it. I have absolutely _zero_ self-control," he said, trailing off into a nervous laugh.

"Uh, yeah... thanks," Dean mumbled. He glared at Charlie. "But I'd still appreciate it if Charlie could ever have a fucking _filter_."

"I'm sorry," she grumbled. "I forget. It's been forever since we've hung out with someone who doesn't know. Besides, y'know, Cas. Before you told him."

"I just don't see why it even has to constantly be brought up," Dean insisted.

Over the top of his cup of beer, Cas met Gabe's eyes. _Sorry_ , Gabe mouthed.

"Because I can't remember the last time you ate a bunch of fried food! So I was just asking!" She crossed her arms and looked away. "Jeez."

"I'm pretty sure it was last summer when we went to the beach and you convinced me to split an order of mozzarella sticks on the boardwalk and then you ate like one and left me with the rest. And _obviously_ I wasn't going to throw them away."

"Well, yeah," Charlie agreed. "And you got sick."

"I know."

Gabe's eyes moved between the two of them. "I'm confused... are you two still arguing?" he asked carefully.

"No," they answered in unison.

"I'm guessing you two have been friends for a long time?" he observed.

"Twenty years," Charlie answered. "It _seems_ like a long time, but..."

Dean laughed. "Uh, no, it _is_ a long time."

Charlie smiled. "You're right." She reached out and patted his arm. "But it flew by, bestie."

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Can we finish eating now so we can go to the leather shop?"

They finished eating, Cas chugged the last of his beer, and they stood up and cleared all of their garbage from the table. At the leather shop, Charlie went to look at the bags while Gabe checked out the wallets. On the other side of the small store, Dean and Cas slid into the cramped pelt aisle.

"You wanna pelt, Cas?" Dean asked, running his fingers through a raccoon's soft fur. "You like foxes, right?" He pointed right behind Cas' head.

Cas turned to see the bright orange fur of a red fox hanging right in his face. "Uh... yeah. But I don't know if I want to kill one."

"It's already dead."

"Well, yeah, but..."

"You eat meat," Dean stated.

Cas met his eyes. "It's... different."

Dean raised one eyebrow. "Is it? You know meat isn't necessary, right?"

"I... never really thought about it," Cas admitted. "Wait- _you_ eat meat."

Dean nodded. "And I'm also offering to buy you a pelt."

Cas swallowed and looked around at all of the furs. "Uh... okay. Maybe just a tail."

"What kind of fox?"

Cas glanced around at a bunch of fluffy black tails with white tips. "I see a lot of silver fox... do they have red?"

"I think the black ones would suit you better, but..." They flipped through the racks for a few minutes until Dean pulled one out and held it up. "How's this one?"

Cas took it and held it in his hands. It was long and fluffy; full and soft with no thin spots, and the fur was a deep orange, with black along the edges and a full white tip. "It's... perfect."

Dean paid for it and they waited outside for Charlie and Gabe. The tail had come with a clip, and as Cas began to clip it to the belt loop on his left hip, Dean stopped him. "Put it back here," he said, pushing Cas' shirt up a bit and clipping it to the center belt loop.

"Why?"

"Because then it looks like a real tail, duh." After he attached the tail, he pulled his hand away, sliding it along Cas' ass cheek in the same movement. "And it accentuates your ass."

Cas laughed and flashed him a gummy smile. "Okay."

Charlie came out empty-handed, and Gabe followed behind her with a plastic bag in hand. "Nice tail, Cassie. Really accentuates your ass."

"That's exactly what I said!" Dean exclaimed. "But hey- only I can say that."

" _Please_ , Dean-O," Gabe said, rolling his eyes. "I hope you know I'm of absolutely no threat to you. I'm not gay."

"Fine," he said, putting his arm around Cas' shoulder. "As long as the comments about my boyfriend's ass are platonic, we're good."

After the show and some more walking around, they decided to check out the jousting. They took a seat in the arena, and Dean spent most of the time watching Cas admire the horses.

"Look how shiny the black one's coat is," he said, pointing down at one of the black horses.

Dean nodded. He then noticed Cas' cup was empty. "Do you want another beer?"

Cas looked down into the cup. "Uh... wasn't that my third?"

Dean nodded again. "So? Do you want another?"

"Sure."

As soon as Dean stood up, Gabe popped up, too. "I'll come with you." He didn't say anything until they got on line at the nearest food stand. "So..." he said, crossing his arms. "Back with Cas."

Dean had known this was coming. "Yeah... about that," he mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I know I fucked up. I appreciate you not giving me a hard time, even though I deserve it."

"I certainly wanted to," Gabe grumbled. He glanced over at the stands, where they could see Cas sitting with Charlie, and uncrossed his arms. "But Cas asked me not to. Demanded it, actually." He sighed and looked at Dean again. "You do make the kid happy."

"You keep calling him kid. Why? He's older than you."

Gabe was quiet for a moment, staring off towards the arena. "Because he's got this... I dunno, child-like innocence. Actually... maybe innocence isn't the word. Something..." He twisted his hand on his wrist in a gesture that did nothing to explain what he meant. "Child-like."

Dean stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to elaborate further, but he didn't. "...Are you calling him slow?"

"What?" Gabe looked surprised. "No. Never mind, you clearly don't get it."

"Help me understand."

Gabe sighed. "Despite all the shit he's been through, he still sees the best in people. He gives second chances. Most people get hurt once or twice, they immediately see the bad in people first. He hasn't allowed himself to become bitter."

"Oh."

"But that means he keeps getting hurt," Gabe continued. "So sometimes he needs someone to make sure others don't take advantage of him. Do you understand me?"

"I'd never take advantage of Cas," Dean assured him. "For what, anyway? What does he have that I would want?"

Gabe shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you're a lonely fuck and Cas is the first person who's ever paid you any attention and you're just clinging onto it until the next best thing comes along? Who knows! I don't, because I don't know you. Not really, at least."

"Uh, okay," Dean said quietly, looking away. "I'm not that, though, so..." Was he?

Gabe crossed his arms. "Well, I don't know that. I met you a few times over three months and then you dump Cas suddenly and without reason. What am I supposed to think?"

Dean nodded. "I understand."

Gabe eyed him up and down. "Good. So don't be a dick again and we won't have any problems."

"Okay."

When they got to the counter, Dean ordered a beer, a soda, and an order of onion rings to split with Cas.

"So, uh, what does Charlie like?" Gabe asked.

"Girls," Dean answered.

Gabe frowned. "I meant to eat, dumbass."

Dean smiled. "Uh..."

Gabe chuckled and shook his head. "I get it." He waved his hand towards the food stand. "What that I could get from here though?"

"Charlie doesn't eat much. I think she filled up at lunch. But she'd probably like a frozen lemonade." He grabbed his drinks and stepped aside as Gabe ordered a frozen lemonade and a soda. As they walked back to the seats, they could see Charlie and Cas looking at them and talking.

"They're talking about us," Dean said.

Beside him, Gabe laughed. "They're talking about _you_."

* * *

"So, are you abandoning me, Cas?" Gabe asked as they walked out the exit, swinging his keyring on his finger. Behind him, Cas lit a cigarette. "Do I have to make the hour drive home alone?"

"I'll ride back with you," Charlie offered. "Since Dean and Cas are going to the same place and all," she said, smiling at Dean.

"Cool," Dean said. "You guys do that. Works for us."

"Aw, shit," Cas said suddenly. "We have to walk all the way back to the car."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, we do. At least it's downhill this time though. And a lot cooler out."

"I'm pretty sure I was close to having a heart attack on the way up."

"Yeah, Cas doesn't get out much," Gabe teased.

"Fuck off," Cas muttered. "You're just as lazy as I am."

It took them fifteen minutes to trek back to the lot, and because Gabe and Cas had arrived earlier, Gabe's car was closer. Dean and Charlie hugged goodbye, and as Charlie gave Cas a hug as well, Gabe stuck his hand out for a hand shake.

Dean shook it and he and Cas headed off towards the Impala. As Dean unlocked the doors, Cas reached behind him to un-clip the tail. He didn't want to mess up the fur or break it by sitting on it in the car. He set it in the backseat, with the box from the pewter shop, and sat down in the front. He lit a cigarette and rolled down the window as Dean turned on the A/C.

"Thank you for today," Cas said as they pulled out onto the main road.

"You're welcome. Did you have fun?"

"Yes," Cas said, sinking back into the seat. The car was quickly becoming more comfortable as the A/C began working, and he was full and buzzed. "And now we get to go home together," he added, as if he couldn't believe it.

Dean chuckled. "Nice, right?"

"Yes."

The sun began to set as they drove down the highway, and Dean turned off the A/C and opened the window. Cas looked over at him.

"I just need some air," Dean said quietly. Cas nodded and they continued driving, and as they got off the highway, Dean left the window open, but turned the A/C back on. Cas noticed he seemed uncomfortable, shifting in his seat a lot.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm not feelin' so great," Dean admitted.

"I'm sorry," Cas said.

Suddenly Dean veered across the road to pull over on the opposite shoulder. He hastily threw it in park, put his hazards on, and flung the door open, vomiting into the grass.

"Holy shit," Cas said, leaning forward to try to see him. "Are you okay?"

"No," Dean groaned. "Too much fried food and soda, and not enough water... on top of... walking around in the sun all day." He stayed hunched over for another minute or two, before deciding he was done and leaning back into the seat. "I knew we shouldn't have gotten those funnel cakes on the way out."

"Yeah," Cas agreed. "They were good though."

"Yeah, they were." He closed the door and merged back into traffic, and they were quiet for the short remainder of the drive home. As they walked into the house, Floyd was excited to see them, smelling their pants and shoes and bumping his face into Cas' hand.

"Do you want me to take Floyd out while you take a shower?" Cas offered.

"That would be awesome," Dean sighed, and he sounded really tired. "Thank you." He disappeared down the hallway and Floyd looked up at Cas.

"C'mon, I'm going to take you outside." Floyd followed him outside onto the patio. Cas flopped back into one of the patio chairs and lit a cigarette, taking slow drags and watching the smoke disappear from the tip. Floyd did all of his business, and then came back to lie next to Cas on the patio. Cas let his arm hang over the armrest, slowly scratching Floyd's head, as he finished his cigarette and watched night finally overtake day.

"Your daddy is really nice," Cas said. "I don't think I deserve it."

As if on cue, _Godzilla_ began playing from his pocket again. This time, instead of scrambling to hit ignore, he just let it play out until it went to voicemail. He could listen to it, and the four others she'd left throughout the day, tomorrow. He'd let her ruin tomorrow, but not today.

Or maybe he wouldn't let her ruin tomorrow, either. Maybe he would just delete them all.

He snuffed the butt of his cigarette out in the ashtray and stood up. Floyd jumped up as well, following him to the door and inside. He trotted across the kitchen and sat down next to his food bowl.

Cas walked down the hallway to the bathroom and knocked on the door. He could hear the shower running. "Do you want me to feed Floyd?" he yelled through the door.

"Sure!"

Cas went back out to the kitchen and over to Floyd. He popped open the plastic food container and used the glass measuring cup inside to measure out two cups of kibble. Floyd waited patiently as Cas poured it into his bowl, and as soon as Cas lifted the cup back up, he dove in. Cas tossed it back into the container and closed the lid just as he heard the bathroom door open.

"All yours!" Dean called from down the hall.

Cas was in and out of the shower as quickly as possible. Dean had work in the morning, and he wanted to at least be able to spend _some_ alone time with him before they had to go to bed. He re-entered the living room in pajamas- a soft, fuzzy pair of bottoms with bones and pawprints Dean had bought him at Wal-Mart, and a plain black tee shirt.

Dean was on the couch, feet on the coffee table and hand resting on his stomach, leaning back into the cushions. The TV was on, barely illuminating the living room. "Did he shit?"

Cas stopped dead in his tracks. "Did who shit?"

Dean laughed. "Floyd."

"Oh, yeah... duh. Uh, yes. He did."

Dean sighed. "Good. He can wait to go out again then."

Cas nodded and lowered himself onto the couch. "Are you feeling better?"

Dean lowered his hand. "A little."

Cas shifted in his seat, leaning over and lying his head on Dean's chest. He draped his right arm across his waist, and Dean pulled his arm out from between them to wrap it around Cas' shoulder.

"What are we watching?" Cas asked, placing his palm over Dean's stomach and beginning to gently rub in small circles.

"I dunno," Dean answered with a sigh. "That feels really good. I figured we could watch some Netflix."

"Do you want to smoke? It might help settle your stomach."

"Sure."

Cas retrieved his bag and rolling papers from the bedroom and rolled a joint. He lit it and passed it to Dean before resuming the same position they'd been in before. They put on Family Guy re-runs and passed it back and forth until it burned out.

"What are we going to do with the rest of that junk food you bought?"

Dean shrugged. "Doesn't Gabe like junk food? Give it to him. He's blessed with a fast metabolism."

"Yes," Cas agreed, "He is."

"But I was gonna make you burgers later."

"It's already getting late, and you're not feeling good. Don't worry about it. I'm more than happy to eat some of the other crap you bought."

Dean smiled and chuckled, and Cas could tell he was _very_ high. "Okay. Good. Youuuu... should go get the ice cream."

Cas sat up. "You bought ice cream?"

"Yep. Rocky Road, 'cause it's your favorite."

Cas leaned forward and planted a kiss on his mouth. "You're way too good to me." He jumped off the couch and headed towards the kitchen. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Dean's laughter followed him from the couch. "It's just ice cream, Cas. But... I dunno. Putting up with my shit. Forgiving me for being an asshole." Cas rounded the corner of the couch again, ice cream container and two spoons in hand. "Being cute."

Cas scoffed a laugh. "Whatever you say, space cadet."

"You can't call me that. You're up here with me, too, so..."

"Uh, no," Cas said, popping open the container of ice cream and tossing the lid onto the coffee table. "You're clearly on another planet."

Dean took the spoon Cas was holding out. "Maybe." He dug it into the ice cream, and they ate in silence for a good three minutes before Cas cleared his throat.

"I thought you had a stomach ache."

Dean swallowed down his most recent bite of ice cream. "I do."

"So... maybe slow down on the ice cream?" Cas offered. Dean shrugged. "So... are you going to tell me what happened with that girl? You know, since Gabe told you about my ex without my permission."

Dean sighed, then stabbed the spoon into the ice cream and left it there. "I guess. She, uh..." He sighed again. "I really don't want to get into this whole long story or anything, but basically, I was with her for two years when she found out that I also like guys, and... she didn't take it that well. I hadn't exactly been hiding it from her or anything, it just hadn't come up, until she started talking shit about her best friend's boyfriend who left her for another guy or something like that. She was shit-talking this guy with a lot of, um... emphasis on his sexuality. Like he only cheated on her and left her because he was bi and couldn't pick one gender or some shit. Had nothing to do with the fact that he was just an asshole. It really pissed me off, and at first she got pissed at me for defending him, until she realized I wasn't defending _him_ , I was just pissed at what she was saying. So then she asked me if I was bi, and I said yes.

"We got into this huge argument about it, and I assured her that I wasn't going anywhere. I _also_ might have pointed out that I could just as easily cheat with another woman as another man, which I _thought_ made sense, but... it just pissed her off even more." He shrugged. "Anyway the argument ended eventually, and she said it was fine, it was just _'a lot to process'_ , but I could tell she didn't look at me the same way anymore." He sighed. "Like three weeks later she sent me a text while I was at work saying that she was sorry, but it wasn't working out, and we shouldn't see each other anymore, blah, blah." He reached out and took the spoon out of the ice cream again, shoving it into his mouth.

"...Wow," Cas said finally. "What a bitch."

Dean laughed bitterly. "Yeah. Except the fucked up part is, she was actually really great. Just... ignorant, I guess."

"I'm sorry."

Dean shrugged. "Don't be. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to be with you."

"Polygamy is a thing."

Dean scoffed. "Yeah, because she totally would've shared me... with another man, no less."

"I didn't say she would've. Or that I even would've. I was just saying that it's a thing."

Dean stuck his spoon back into the ice cream container and sighed. "I should probably stop eating ice cream and go to bed."

Cas nodded and brought another spoonful to his mouth. "I agree."

Dean eyed Cas holding the ice cream container. "Are you coming? Or are you going to stay up and have some alone time with the ice cream?"

Cas looked down at what was left in the container. "Well, since I can't have any after tonight, I was going to finish it."

"Okay." Dean stood up and stretched, his back popping audibly. "Knock yourself out."

"I'll let Floyd out again if you want. I still need to feed Roger and change his water."

Dean glanced over at the dog bed, where Floyd was dead to the world. "If he goes to the door before you come to bed. Otherwise he's fine. Thanks."

Cas nodded. "I'll be in soon." Dean disappeared into the dark hallway and Cas was left thinking, _Holy shit. Somebody is actually in bed waiting for me. In_ our _bed. Where_ we _live. Together._ He looked down at the melting ice cream in his lap. Tomorrow he _really_ needed to get his shit together; he couldn't allow himself to do _anything_ to fuck this up.

* * *

When Dean woke up in the morning, he still felt queasy. He took some antacids and fed Floyd breakfast, and sipped on a cup of coffee as Floyd sniffed around the yard. He told himself tonight or tomorrow they would start their walks again. He skipped his own breakfast, instead taking a longer-than-usual hot shower, and got dressed quietly as to not wake Cas.

He received a text from Cas around ten.

**Cas: Hi :)**

He wiped his hands off the best he could on a rag and texted him back.

**Dean: hey, howd you sleep? can't text a lot, hands in an engine**

**Cas: I slept well, thanks. I'm going to go to Gabe's for a little bit.**

**Dean: OK. bring him all of that food. i left you a note on the counter with what to make yourself for breakfast. if you want**

**Cas: Okay, thank you.**

Cas tapped out of the conversation and opened Gabe's.

**Cas: I'm sorry, I just woke up. I'll be there around 11.**

**Gabe: K**

Cas quickly got dressed and brushed his teeth. Out in the kitchen, there was a note on the counter:

_Cas,_  
_Cook two eggs with 1/2 Tbsp of butter_  
_One slice of toast with the other 1/2 Tbsp of butter_  
_Drink a glass of water_

_I'm sorry it's boring but it's early and I can't think straight right now.  
This is for later --- >_  
_I'll make you something better when I get home_  
Promise

_-Dean_

An arrow was drawn to a stick of string cheese and a granola bar that was sitting on the counter, next to the note. Also on the counter was a spare key. Cas smiled to himself and grabbed a pan out of the cabinet. He cooked himself breakfast as Dean instructed, and he sat down at the table and ate it slowly. He'd known already from the meals he'd already had with Dean, but he was still amazed by how much fuller he felt when he actually sat at a table and not in a car to eat, taking his time and drinking water. He washed the dishes he'd made and let Floyd out to pee before grabbing his snacks and heading out the door.

He started the car and backed out of the driveway, and it felt weird being behind the wheel again after only driving once in the past week. But by the time he got to the end of the block, he was feeling a bit nauseous, and by the next one, his heart was pounding in his chest. He had no idea what was going on, but he felt like he was going to vomit, so he turned around and drove back to Dean's.

He put the car in park and stared through the windshield at Dean's garage door. He took a few deep breaths, and as his heart rate slowed, he realized he'd just had the beginnings of a panic attack. _Fuck._ He needed to drive to get to work, and he had to be back in three days. He took out his phone and texted Dean.

**Cas: Hey, is it alright if Gabe just comes over and picks up the food? I'm not feeling that great...**

**Dean: course. i feel like crap too. we definitely overdid it yesterday lol**

Cas sighed. That wasn't what he meant, but Dean could think that all he wanted. He wasn't about to tell him that he had a panic attack over _driving_. **  
**

**Cas: Yeah. :\ Can Gabe come inside?**

**Dean: yes cas you can have guests over**

**Cas: Well I wasn't exactly sure how yesterday went. I know you guys talked alone shortly before we left.**

**Dean: we did. i gotta go tho, ill see you when i get home**

**Cas: Thanks for the key. <3  
**

**Dean: youre welcome :)**

Cas texted Gabe next.

**Cas: Can you come over here instead? I'm sorry.**

**Gabe: i guess. dean there?**

**Cas: He's at work.**

**Gabe: scandalous**

**Cas: Shut up. Please bring me liquor**

**Gabe: ur a fuckin alcoholic**

**Cas: No, I'm not.**

**Gabe: fine. give me an hour becuz now i have to get ready for work cuz im not coming over there then going back home then going to work so**

**Cas: Okay. I'm sorry.**

**Gabe: it's cool i'm just sayin. txt me the address**

Cas grabbed the snacks Dean had given him from the passenger seat and went back into the house. He put the cheese stick back in the fridge for later and left the granola bar on the counter.

What the fuck was he going to do? He couldn't _not_ drive. He hadn't even anticipated this being a problem- yeah, he'd been anxious following Dean home, and he'd basically just zoned out and followed the rear end of the Impala, but he figured that was just nerves because he had seen Dean and was going to his house again for the first time in three months. He hadn't really had the processing power to give it much more thought than that, he'd just tailgated Dean on auto-pilot.

Who the hell was scared to drive just because they hit a deer? People hit deer all the time! What was he going to tell Dean? Dean was going to think he was a total chicken-shit.

_"Oh, no, they say he's got to go_  
_go, go, Godzilla-"_

Picking up would be a bad idea. He'd already responded to her twice that morning, and it was only fueling her. Ignoring her was clearly the right thing to do. But maybe he was just a glutton for punishment, or maybe he was just angry, because he picked up anyway.

" _What?_ "

"How _dare_ you ignore me! I am your _mother_! You wouldn't even _be_ here if it wasn't for me-"

"Yeah, well," he cut her off, "Thanks for nothing. You should've done us both a favor and aborted my ass." He hung up on her and dropped his phone onto the couch, dropping his head into his hands with a heavy sigh. He needed a fucking cigarette.

He was still smoking on the front step when Gabe arrived. "You look sad," he announced as he exited the car. "Why are you sad?"

"I'm not sad," Cas grumbled.

"Could'a fooled me," Gabe said, approaching where Cas was sitting. He extended his arm and held out a brown paper bag.

"Thank you," Cas said, taking it and standing up. He turned around and opened the front door. "I have a bunch of food for you."

Gabe raised one eyebrow as he closed the front door behind them. "Food? For me?" He looked down as Floyd ran up on him and began sniffing his shoes. "Oh, hello."

"Yeah, a bunch of junk food. Just take it when you leave."

"Uh... okay." He looked around as Cas dropped himself down into the couch cushions. "Nice house."

"Yeah," Cas agreed distractedly as he cracked open the bottle. Gabe had gotten his favorite... such a good friend.

"So... is it weird? Living somewhere else now?"

Cas shrugged, swallowing down a gulp of whiskey. "Yeah."

"With someone you've known for three months."

Cas sighed and rolled his eyes. "Dean's a nice guy. And... I don't know, it feels like I've known him longer than that. It feels like I've known him forever."

Gabe rounded the corner of the couch and picked Cas' phone up off of the couch cushion. He set it down on the coffee table and sat down next to him. "Aw, how sweet."

"Can't you just be happy for me?" Cas snapped.

"I am," Gabe said quickly. "I'm just... also worried. A little. You don't seem so happy yourself."

Cas' shoulders sagged. "Because moving out of my parents' was supposed to solve all of my problems in one weekend, right?"

Gabe looked uncomfortable. "Well... I mean... it's not?"

Cas leaned back into the couch and stared down at the bottle in his hands, breathing out a heavy sigh. "I guess it should, right?"

"I don't know... I thought it would. You don't have to communicate with your mom anymore, like, at all, if you don't want to. She has no say in what you do. She can't shit-talk you anymore."

Cas took another sip from the bottle and replaced the cap. How was he supposed to explain to Gabe just how much emotional abuse effected someone? Especially when he'd never told him just how bad it was? It wasn't as simple as just getting away from it- not when it's something ingrained into a person for their entire twenty-seven years of existence. He may have only been away from the house for three days, but he already knew that this was something that was going to stick with him for a long time.

He couldn't explain it, really. At least not without getting into some huge emotional discussion that he really didn't want to get into right now, and especially not with Gabe. "I guess."

"You know your phone's been going off for the last five minutes, right?"

Cas nodded slowly. "That would be my mother." He set the bottle of liquor down on the coffee table, next to his buzzing phone, and stood up. "Would you like to smoke?"

"Sure. Can I get some of that junk food you mentioned?"

When Cas returned from the bedroom with the last of his bag and a glass pipe, he set them down on the table and went into the kitchen. "What do you want? There's Doritos, Oreos, Zebra cakes-"

"Doritos!" Gabe exclaimed. Cas grabbed the bag and dropped it in Gabe's lap on his way back to his seat. He packed the bowl, and as he took the first hit, Gabe held out the now-open bag of Doritos.

Cas shook his head. "I'm good, thanks."

Gabe shrugged. "Don't thank me. It's _your_ food." He paused. "Why are you giving me all of this, anyway?"

"So that there isn't any junk food in the house."

"I'm confused... why does Dean even have all of this stuff?" Before Cas could come up with an answer, he continued with a smirk, "Was he so broken up about what he did that he fell off the wagon?"

Cas held the bowl out to him. "You're an asshole."

"Legitimate question!" Gabe defended, taking the bowl from him."Even Charlie seemed kind of shocked yesterday."

Cas sighed. "Ugh, no. I told him I would make an effort to eat better, _after_ the weekend. So he'd gotten some stuff at the store, but... weekend's over, so it has to go."

Gabe took a long pull off the pipe. "Uh, okay. Well, either way," he exhaled, filling the space between them with smoke, "I'm happy to take free food."

* * *

Dean felt much better by the end of the work day. He said goodbye to Bobby, who's face was buried in a manual in his office, and Jo, who was counting the cash in the register, and headed out. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he felt something light and happy kick up in his stomach at the realization that Cas was waiting for him at home. He briefly had the idea to pick up a pizza on the way back, but he had to remind himself that things weren't going to be like that anymore.

That was okay though. Teaching Cas to cook and doing it together would be way more fun anyway; and they could still order in _once_ in a while.

As he walked up to the front door, he could hear muffled [music](https://youtu.be/mrojrDCI02k?t=2m10s) playing from the stereo system in the living room- Pink Floyd. He pictured Cas sitting on the couch with a joint rolled, and by the time he opened the door, he had a huge grin on his face. It quickly fell, though, as he closed the door behind him and caught sight of Cas on the couch. He was slumped back into the cushions, wiping his hoodie sleeve across his face, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in the other hand.

_Breathe, breathe in the air_  
_Don't be afraid to care_  
_Leave, but don't leave me  
Look around, c_ _hoose your own ground_

"Cas?" Dean called.

Cas turned his head. "Fuck... w-what time is't?"

_Long you live and high you fly_  
_And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry_

Dean made a bee-line for the couch, ignoring his question. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

_And all you touch and all you see_  
_Is all your life will ever be_

"I'm not... crying," Cas mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

"You clearly are," Dean said back. Cas didn't answer, instead bringing the bottle to his lips again. Dean glanced around and noticed Cas' phone lying on the floor. He picked it up and flipped it over, and the corner of the screen was cracked. "You broke your phone," he stated.

_Run, rabbit run_  
_Dig that hole, forget the sun_

"I did," Cas said.

_And when at last the work is done_  
_Don't sit down_  
_It's time to dig another one_

Dean pressed the home button, and the screen lit up. Through the cracks, he could see that Cas had eight notifications- three voicemails and five texts. He sighed, setting Cas' phone down on the coffee table and sitting down next to him on the couch. He picked up the little remote for the stereo and hit the mute button. "I told you to block her number, Cas."

"I know," Cas whispered, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry." He watched Cas pick at the label on the bottle. "You know that whatever she said isn't true, right?"

"So why does she say it?" He choked out a sob. "Why- why does she hate me so much? How could anyone... hate _their own kid_ so much?" He dropped his head into his hands.

Dean leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him, and Cas turned to lean into him, sobbing into his chest. "I don't know," Dean said, rubbing his palm soothingly across Cas' back. "But I guarantee you it's not your fault, okay? Your mom's got problems."

"'N' they all seem to stem from me."

"That's bullshit, Cas. What the fuck did she say to you?" Against his chest, Cas shook his head. "Tell me, Cas." Again, Cas didn't answer. "Why not?"

"'Cause."

"'Cause why?"

"'Cause it's _stupid_. I should be able to jus' ignore it."

Dean grabbed onto Cas' shoulders and pulled him back to look at him. "Jesus, Cas, you're _human_ , okay? There's nothing wrong with expecting people to treat you with decency. Especially your own mother."

Cas refused to meet his eyes, instead staring down at the bottle still in his hands.

"Where'd you get that, anyway?"

"The store."

"You are such a smartass." The corner of Cas' mouth lifted ever so slightly, but he still wouldn't look at Dean. "What did your mom say?" Dean asked slowly.

Cas lifted his head, but still didn't look at Dean. "The usual."

"Riiight," Dean said, leaning forward and grabbing Cas' phone from the table. He pressed the home button twice, and a key pad popped up. He held it out to Cas in a silent request for him to input his passcode. If he didn't want to, he could just take his phone back, but instead he tapped four numbers and the phone opened for Dean. Cas then stood up and, setting the bottle down on the coffee table, stumbled off down the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Dean called.

"Bathroom," Cas answered.

Dean wasn't going to listen to the voicemails, as Cas hadn't even listened to them yet, but he opened the text conversation. He scrolled back to the day before, and the time stamps showed she'd been texting Cas all day while they were at the faire.

**Mom: why arent you answring my calls?**

**Mom: i am you MOTHER**

**Mom: Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the LORD your GOD is giving you, Exodus 20:12**

**Cas: Stop messaging me.**

**Mom: i cant believe you would do this to your parents. we gave you EVERYTHIGN**

**Mom: yuo are such an ungrateful**

**Mom: child**

Dean figured she must have passed out drunk or something because that was the last text, until that morning.

**Mom: are you going to come home and let us help you, or are you going to live the rest of your life in sin?**

**Mom: ?**

**Mom: castiel answer me  
**

**Cas: STOP**

**Mom: what kind of mother would i be if i just gave up on my only son?**

**Cas: So go have another son, maybe he'll be straight and then you can forget about me and LEAVE ME ALONE.**

She didn't respond for a while, and based on the next text, Dean figured it was because she'd started calling.

**Mom: how DARE you say that and then HANG UP on me?!**

**Mom: i would not have gotten pregnant if it was not GODS will**

**Mom: He had a plan for you, castiel, and you've failed every step of the way**

**Mom: you are the most selfish spoiled ungrateful child i have EVER met**

**Mom: i dont know why your father and i wasted our lives trying to raise you right when you so CLEARLY didn't want to be helped**

**Mom: you act like whatever happened at that camp was so bad, yet it clearly wasn't enough to get you to change. how bad could it have been?**

**Mom: you ruined my life. 30 years. i wish you'd never been born.  
**

Based on the timestamps, Dean could see that after Cas had answered the phone call from her and hung up, he most likely hadn't checked the texts again until later, after Gabe had come and gone. At that point, he'd read the last message from her, sent a hasty reply, and thrown his phone, and the last five texts Dean had seen the notifications for on the screen, he hadn't read.

**Cas: FUCK YOU  
**

**Mom: this is exactly what i'm talking about**

**Mom: what respectable child talks to their mother that way**

**Mom: you will regret all of this one day, castiel, when i am dead and gone**

**Mom: and then it will be too late**

**Mom: i just hope the Lord has mercy on us knowing that we tried**

So badly Dean wanted to write that if there was a hell, she was going to burn in it. But he didn't. Instead, he hit the power button, turning off Cas' screen, and set the phone down on the table. He sat in silence until Cas stumbled back into the living room and collapsed next to him on the couch.

"Do you feel better?"

Cas closed his eyes and leaned back into the cushions, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes."

"Your mom is a piece of shit," he said gruffly.

"E-sellent observation. I'm gonna go ou'side and have a cigarette."

"Just smoke in here," Dean said quickly. "I don't want you face-planting on the patio."

"You can't keep lettin' me smoke in here, it'll make your house gross." He paused as he dug his pack of cigarettes out of the front pocket of his hoodie. "Fuck, I have to quit smokin', too, don't I?"

"One thing at a time, Cas. I'd like you to, but you don't have to do anything you don't want to." Cas fumbled with the lighter for a moment, until finally Dean reached out and took it from him. He lit it and held it up to Cas' cigarette before tossing it onto the table. "I need you to talk to me."

"About what?"

"What happened at that camp."

Cas folded his arms across his chest. "No."

"Cas-"

"No," Cas said again.

"Clearly something happened, Cas," Dean pressed. Between the text from his mom setting him off, to Cas casually mentioning back when they first dated that he'd started smoking and drinking around fifteen, Dean knew that whatever happened had fucked Cas up.

"Dean, you need t'gimmie a break," Cas said. "I'm sorry that I'm-a drunk mess on your couch but you have to understand- a few days ago I thought you wanted nothin' to do with me." He looked away. "You need to give me some time."

Dean snapped his mouth shut. "Okay. ...You're right."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Cas sucking on his cigarette, before he mumbled, "...Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"'Cause I'm bein' difficult."

"You're not..." Dean trailed off and sighed. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just... disappointed." He lowered his head. "In myself. For... ruining any trust you'd had in me."

"You did- you didn't ruin it. ...I jus' need some time." He fiddled with the cigarette in his hand. "I... never told anyone, so."

"You know that I just want to help you."

"Tellin' you won't change anythin'," Cas said quietly. "There's really nothin' you can do. It was thirteen years ago."

"That's not necessarily true."

"I dunno."

"Okay."

Cas used the end of his cigarette to light a new one before snuffing the first one out. "So, um, how was work?"

"It was okay. Nothing out of the ordinary. ...Except I was really excited to come home and see you."

A small smile briefly appeared on Cas' lips before disappearing again. "I'm sorry you came home t' this."

Dean reached over and placed his hand on Cas' thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't be." Cas smiled over at him, then leaned over into his side. Dean wrapped his arm around his shoulder and turned his head, burying his nose in Cas' hair. "Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

Cas sighed. "No... I fucked up already. I ate a buncha Doritos with Gabe. ...And drank all that whiskey."

"It's alright," Dean said, rubbing his hand up and down Cas' upper arm. "Tomorrow's another day."

"Oh, joy," Cas said dryly.

Dean smiled in spite of himself. "Do you want to lay down?" Cas nodded, so Dean helped him to the bedroom and out of his clothes. He left them in a pile on the floor and then helped Cas get comfortable under the blanket.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I know it's early, but will you lie with me?"

"Yeah. Let me just get you some water, okay?" Cas nodded and closed his eyes, and it seemed like Dean was back in a second. He set the glass of water down on the nightstand on Cas' side and laid himself down on his side of the bed.

"Why are you on top of the covers?"

"Because I haven't showered yet and I don't think you want oil and grease in the bed."

Cas shrugged. "No. It's your bed, though."

Dean smiled. "And I don't want oil and grease in it." He rolled over so that he was facing Cas, and cupped his hand over Cas' jawline. "I'd prefer to dirty up the bed other ways." Cas giggled, and Dean leaned forward to capture his mouth in a kiss. When he pulled back, he caught and held Cas' eyes. "I'm really glad you're here, Cas."

Cas closed his eyes and hummed in agreement. "Me too." He kept them closed, and a minute or two passed before Dean was pretty sure he'd dozed off. He carefully climbed off of the bed and went out into the living room. He fed Floyd and then jumped in the shower, and afterwards, he stood at the sliding glass door in a towel while Floyd took care of business in the back yard.

When they came back in, he finished drying off and hung the towel on the back of the door. He climbed under the blanket with Cas, who opened his eyes. "I want to tell you."

Dean blinked. "What?"

Cas stared into his eyes. "I want to tell you what happened."

Dean held his gaze. He'd thought Cas was asleep, but he seemed like he'd sobered up a bit, so he was clearly awake the whole time Dean was gone. "Okay. But you don't have to if you don't want to. I don't want you to feel pressured or anything. It can wait 'til you're ready."

Cas lowered his eyes. "That's the thing... I don't think I'll ever be ready. But I've kept it to myself for so long, and I don't think I can anymore." He paused, chewing on his bottom lip. "Plus I drank 'n' smoked so I'm just gonna tell you and then go to sleep and we can both forget about it."

"Uh... okay." He leaned back so that he was propped up on both elbows as Cas scooted up in the bed and sat up. He brought his knees up, still covered by the blanket, and wrapped his arms around them.

He drew in a deep breath, before releasing it slowly. "Okay. So, um... I'm just gonna preface this by telling you that this is the most fucked up thing that's ever happened to me. But at the same time, it's... not a big deal. Not anymore. I... I don't really ever think about it or anything."

Dean wanted to say, _It certainly sounds like a big deal..._ but he kept silent, afraid to interrupt Cas, lest he stop talking.

"I have this cousin," Cas began slowly, focusing on enunciating his words. "Her name is April. Her mother is my mother's older sister, so she was just as brainwashed as the rest of the family. ...Kind of. We had grown up together, and I trusted her, so when she told me she'd been having sex already- she was fifteen, by the way; I was fourteen- I thought I could confide in her, because she was sinning, too. I told her _my._.. sin." He rolled his eyes. "I told her that I liked boys." He paused. "I hadn't done anything yet, but that didn't matter. I knew right away that I'd fucked up. Sure enough she told her mother, who told mine." He stopped, but Dean remained silent, because it was clear to him that Cas was not finished.

"I denied it, of course, but she didn't believe me. Told me April was a "good girl" and wouldn't lie. If only she'd known what April was doing. ...So over the summer she sent me to this camp. They boasted a... ninety-five percent success rate. At first it was laughable. We'd get lectures about all the dangers of being gay, and watch bad propaganda videos about 'the gays'. But that was just the beginning. I... wasn't exactly complacent, especially when things got worse. They'd give us nausea-inducing medication and make us look at pictures, or..." He closed his eyes. "...Fucking shock therapy. And that was horrible, but... I... I still wouldn't let them break me. About two weeks in... this one staff member. He said I'd been particularly difficult that day- which I was- and as punishment I had to do manual labor. After everyone else went to bed, we hiked up the hill behind the camp to the barn. We- we went inside, and, uh..." He swallowed hard and trailed off.

_"Are we cleaning the stalls? I... thought that was a morning chore."_

_Allen chucked and shook his head. "No, Castiel. I want you to follow me."_

_Cas followed Allen past the cows and to the back of the barn, behind a wall of stacked bails of hay. In the corner was a bucket, and Allen stopped in front of it. "I want to show you something." Cas inched over towards the bucket and peered inside. At the bottom sat a small field mouse, staring up at him with large, unblinking eyes._

_"He's fallen and he's trapped in there, Castiel. He doesn't know what to do, and he is not going to survive without intervention. That intervention may be scary, and he may not understand it, but it is going to save him." He met Cas' eyes and smiled, but it wasn't a kind smile, and it made Cas uneasy. "Hopefully he cooperates." He reached into the bucket and grabbed the mouse, hard, and lifted it out of the bucket. He held it up in front of his face, and Cas watched, confused, as the mouse thrashed and repeatedly bit into his thumb- hard. It drew blood, but Allen just smiled. "What a shame." The muscles in his arm popped and a second later, the mouse's eyes followed._

_Cas gasped, horrified, and took a step back. "What the- what is_ wrong _with you?"_

_Allen threw the mouse's lifeless body back into the bucket with a loud splat and rounded on Cas, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. He spun him around and threw him to the floor._

_"What is wrong with_ you _?" he snapped, looming over Castiel as he scrambled backwards on his elbows. "We are here to help you, to cure you, and you are nothing but an ungrateful, sinful little brat. God wants to lift you up, to help you enter paradise, and you don't think that you will feel his wrath when you bite him?"  
_

_Cas looked around frantically- he was cornered by the wall and the bails of hay, and Allen was blocking his only exit._

_"You have a smart mouth, Castiel," Allen said, stepping forward until he was standing over Cas. "I think it's time someone shut it up." He dropped to his knees over him and reached for his belt buckle. Cas pushed himself back again, but at this point he was up against another wall._

_"Don't-"_

_"Shut up," Allen growled. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of hair on the top of Cas' head, yanking it forward and then slamming it back against the wall. A cloud of thick barn dust came down on Cas' head, filling his lungs and burning his eyes. He barely registered Allen pulling in his knees and shoving his pants down. "This is what you want, isn't it, Castiel?" he said, his voice dripping with mockery. He placed one grimy hand on Cas' face, rubbing his bloody thumb along his bottom lip as he stroked himself with his other hand. "Isn't that why you refuse to flip past those images, no matter how many times we shock you?"_

_"No," Cas choked out._

_"Are you sure?" Allen sneered, pushing himself forward. "Because I seem to remember your heart rate kicking up quite a bit when we showed you that skinny little faggot being choked on a cock." He leaned down and, in Cas' ear, growled, "Let's see how you like being on the receiving end."  
_

_"Please," Cas begged. A sob tore through him as Allen leaned back again and pressed the warm head of his dick against his cheek._

_"This is all you have to look forward to," he said from above. "Homosexuality is nothing but_ lust _. If you think_ anyone _will_ ever _love you, you're dead wrong."_

"Cas?"

_He was dizzy and covered in sweat, and it hurt to swallow. Allen was on his feet again, and he reached down and grabbed Cas' face by the chin, turning his head and forcing him to look at him._

_"Get with the program. Or next time, I won't use your pretty little_ mouth _."_

"Cas!"

He turned to look at Dean, suddenly realizing that tears were streaming down his cheeks. He wiped his arm across his face and choked out a sob. "Fuck."

"Cas," Dean breathed, "Holy shit, you went silent on me for like two minutes straight. Are you okay?"

Cas nodded, although he was the furthest thing from okay. He hadn't thought about it in so long, and he wasn't expecting everything to come crashing back so _vividly_. He could still smell the fucking cows. He sucked in a deep breath and quickly said, "I- I just need to get it out."

Dean nodded. He unfortunately had a strong feeling as to where this was going, but Cas clearly needed to say it. "Go ahead. I'm here."

"He... he overpowered me. Pushed me down, and-" He buried his face in his hands, making a frustrated noise. When he removed them, he looked as far away from Dean as possible. "Have you ever heard the term corrective rape?" He didn't give Dean even a second to answer. "He shoved his dick in my mouth." He continued staring away from Dean, jaw clenched and eyes burning.

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure what he should- or even could- say. "Christ, Cas... I'm sorry," he said finally. "I know it doesn't help, but I'm really fucking sorry."

"Actually..." Cas began quietly. "It kind of does help. A little." Having never told anyone, just that little bit of validation from someone else that what he went through was horrible actually made him feel the tiniest bit better.

Not taking his eyes off of Cas, Dean reached behind him and grabbed a box of tissues off of his night stand, holding them out.

"Thanks." Cas took the box and pulled one out, but he didn't use it, instead fiddling with it between his fingers. They sat in silence for a few minutes, as Cas took deep breaths. Finally, he stated, "I'd like to go to sleep now."

Dean nodded. "Sure thing, Cas."

Cas set the box of tissues down on his night stand and slid back down under the covers, rolling onto his side, away from Dean. Dean got into a similar position behind him.

Dean felt weird asking, but given what Cas had just told him, he didn't know if he wanted to be touched. He didn't know much at all about sexual trauma, but now he definitely wanted to learn. He wanted to help Cas in any way he could. "Do you want me to, uh..."

"I don't want anything to change, Dean," Cas said weakly.

"Okay." He scooted up behind Cas, sliding his arm around his side and nestling his nose against the back of Cas' neck.

Cas shifted his arm and placed his hand over Dean's, holding it against his chest and lacing their fingers together. "Thank you," Cas murmured sleepily.

Dean sighed against his neck. "Don't mention it, Cas." As they laid together, Dean could feel his heartbeat against Cas' back, and Cas' own against his palm. Remembering his conversation with Charlie the day before, he was suddenly filled with the overwhelming urge to tell Cas that he loved him. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to, but the more he also realized that it probably wasn't appropriate.

Cas was currently the most vulnerable Dean had ever seen him. He wouldn't want to remember this as the first time Dean said it, and he certainly wouldn't want to think that Dean said it out of pity.

He wondered if anyone had ever said it to Cas at all. He was sure his parents hadn't, unless it was something condescending like, "We're doing this because we love you". He could feel the words on his tongue: _Cas, you don't have to say it back, but I want you to know that I love you_.

But he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he pressed a kiss to the back of Cas' neck and gave his fingers a squeeze. Cas squeezed his back, and that was good enough for Dean.

* * *

The next morning, Cas woke up while Dean was getting dressed. He partially sat up and squinted at Dean. "Is it morning already?" he asked groggily.

"Yeah," Dean answered, pulling on a pair of jeans in front of the dresser.

Cas flopped back into his pillow as Dean made his way over to the bed. "Ugh, I have to go back on Thursday. ...What day is it?"

"Tuesday," Dean answered, sitting down on his side of the mattress.

Cas was quiet for a moment, rubbing his eyes. "My head hurts." When Dean didn't respond, he pulled his hands away and opened his eyes. Dean was staring at him, his mouth turned down in a slight frown. "...What?"

"I don't want to go to work and leave you here," Dean said.

Cas frowned. "What? Why?"

Dean's eyes flicked away. "I'm worried about you."

Memories of the night before came flooding back, and Cas closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm fine, Dean. I'm probably just going to sleep all day."

Dean was quiet again, and Cas re-opened his eyes to see Dean staring down into his lap, picking at his fingernails. Finally he looked over and caught Cas' eye. "I think you should see a therapist."

Cas immediately shook his head. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't need to," Cas insisted, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm fine."

"You're clearly not, Cas," Dean pressed. Cas didn't respond. "It helped me."

"I'm not you," Cas snapped. "I don't _talk_ about my problems. I ignore them because there's nothing I can do about them."

"And that's working _so_ well for you, right?" Dean said, his voice rising. "Do you think I was always like this? I needed years of fucking therapy to figure out how to process my dumb feelings and say what I mean, Cas, and for no good reason. Nothing _happened_ to me; I was fucked up even as a blank slate." He swallowed, trying to re-orient himself. This wasn't about _him_ , it was about Cas. "Is this going to be our first fight? Because I really don't want it to be, but I'm worried about you and I'm not letting this go."

"This is why I didn't want to fucking say anything," Cas muttered.

"Don't- don't do that," Dean said. "Don't try to make me feel guilty for caring about you because _you_ decided to tell me. I can't just act like it didn't happen. I can't just act like you aren't carrying that around with you. I can't imagine-"

"No, you can't," Cas said. "So you can't imagine how badly I don't want to fucking re-live it with a stranger."

"You don't have to. Cas, please, just give it a chance," Dean pleaded. "You don't have to tell them about anything you don't want to. I was going to suggest this even before last night. You can just talk about your mom. Or us. Or Roger."

"That sounds productive." Dean sighed, and when he opened his mouth in rebuttal, Cas cut him off. "I know. I'm being difficult," he said bitterly. "That's just what I do, apparently."

"That's not what I was going to say," Dean said quietly. "I was going to say that I didn't want to go, either."

_The door to his bedroom burst open and a stream of light from the hallway poured in. Dean groaned and with a bit of effort, pushed himself up onto his elbow to peer into the light. "Dad?" he asked groggily. "Damn, you can't knock? What if I was-"_

_"Save it, Dean," John snapped. "You and I both know you weren't."_

_Dean blinked._ Ouch.

_"You're goin' to that fuckin' therapy appointment next week," he growled, and it was clear by the malice in his voice that he'd been drinking._

_"Uh, okay-"_

_"I'm not dealin' with this for much longer, Dean. You don't get your shit together, I'm done. Do you understand?"_

_"...Yes, sir."_

_He slammed the door and Dean was shrouded in darkness again. He could hear his parents yelling down the hall, and he let his elbow slide out from under him, flopping back down against the pillow. They were fighting again, and it was his fault._

_A few minutes later, there was a soft knock at his door. He didn't respond, but the door eased open. "Dean?"_

_"What, mom?" he said into his pillow._

_She came in and left the door slightly ajar behind her, allowing just a sliver of light in. Dean felt the mattress dip slightly as she sat on the edge, but he refused to turn his head to face her._

_"Are you alright?"_

_"I'm fine, mom," he mumbled._

_"He's just worried."_

_"I said it's fine. I'm going to go to the appointment."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Yes," he said, growing impatient. He just wanted to go back to sleep._

_She was silent for a moment. "...Are you hungry? Do you want-"_

_"Jesus christ, no," he groaned. "It's past midnight. I want to go to sleep."_

_"Okay," she said softly, and he could feel her standing up. "Goodnight."_

_"Goodnight," he grumbled._

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "I refused. My parents got into a huge argument over it and my dad basically forced me to go."

"...Are you saying that you're forcing me to go?"

"No," Dean said quickly. "I'm never going to force you to do anything, Cas. I'm just trying to convince you because I think it would help you." He watched Cas look away, and he looked like he was thinking about it. "There's no shame in it," Dean added. "I actually started going again. Right after... I fucked things up with you."

Cas turned his head back to look at him. "You did?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Her name's Missouri. Super cool lady. You can see her, if you want."

Cas chewed on his bottom lip. "Maybe."

"That's all I'm asking. Just think about it. Maybe you can just come along with me the first time."

Cas nodded and closed his eyes. "I'm going to try to sleep off this hangover."

"Okay." Dean fiddled with his hands in his lap. "...Are you mad at me?"

"No, Dean."

"Promise?"

Cas opened his eyes again. "I promise."

Dean smiled weakly, reaching out and squeezing Cas' hand. "Call me if you need me, okay?"

Cas smiled back. "Okay."

Dean leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. "Maybe when I get home, you'd want to go to the grocery store with me?"

"Sure, Dean. Have a good day at work."

Dean let go of his hand and stood up, walking to the door and turning around. "I'll see you when I get home." He let his gaze linger on Cas for a moment longer before walking out the door and down the hallway.

Cas groaned and rolled over, yanking the blanket up over his head. He didn't want to see a _therapist_. For what? So she could pity him, too? What the hell was she going to do about anything?

He slept on and off for the next four hours, until finally he decided that sleeping wasn't going to help his hangover. He pulled on his pajamas and smoked a cigarette on the patio, then went into the kitchen in search of food. Dean had a lot of ingredients, but nothing easily preparable, until he went into the pantry and found a few cans of tuna fish. He grabbed one and made himself a sandwich, then took a shower. He didn't see a reason to get dressed yet, so he put a clean pair of pajamas on. He still had a headache, so he took some of the pain medication he was prescribed, although it was for his neck. Taking note that he was almost out of weed, he rolled a joint and laid down on the couch.

His phone must have died, because it sat dark and quiet on the coffee table where Dean had left it the night before. Part of him told himself to get up and plug it in to charge, because Dean might text him, but another part told him to leave it off, because his mom was _definitely_ texting him. He closed his eyes, throwing his arm across his face and thinking back to what Dean had said about her showing up at the hospital. Maybe he should change his surgery date.

He suddenly realized that it didn't matter. She could just show up at PetSmart on Thursday. His heart rate kicked up just at the thought of her causing a scene in front of all of his coworkers. He dropped his arm, opening his eyes and letting his head flop to the side. He spotted the half-empty bottle of liquor Gabe had brought him the day before, sitting on the coffee table. With a heavy sigh, he rolled over and reached out for it. It was going to be a long week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really look forward to your comments, they're the only thing that keeps me going these days.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long! I didn't die and this story will be finished, I promise. My life's just been a shit-fest, and ironically, even though writing helps, it's hard to find the time or motivation. Anyway I've been working like 60 hours a week and I'm exhausted and I'm sorry! Hopefully this chapter is good, please let me know! I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I think you guys have waited long enough. Plus I'm never 100% happy with my work anyway, so fuck it lol.

_Aside from yanking up the collar of his shirt to wipe his mouth and chin, Cas didn't move for what seemed like forever. Eventually, the position he was in became painful, so he slowly rose to his feet. He instantly felt dizzy, and he grabbed onto the windowsill to keep his balance. Vaguely, he registered a sharp pain in his hand, but he ignored it. He'd later find a giant splinter buried in his palm.  
_

_He needed to get back to the cabin. He stumbled out of the barn and down the hill. Allen had taken the lantern with him, so he had no light, but there was at least a little moonlight. Eventually he made it to the building housing the showers. He kept the lights off to avoid anyone noticing he was in there and, starting the water, stripped out of his clothes. He only had one camp shirt and was expected to wear it tomorrow, so he washed it under the water as quickly as possible. He then threw it over the wall separating the next stall to dry and stepped under the water._

_Although he was soaked in stale sweat and his skin was crawling, the hot water felt good. He shampooed his hair, wincing as his fingers grazed over the back of his head. He could already feel a bump forming from where Allen had bashed his head into the wall. He then took the bar of soap and scrubbed his face thoroughly, even getting it in his eyes and mouth. It stung and tasted horrible, but he didn't care. He needed to be clean. He reached for his toiletry case to retrieve his toothbrush before realizing if he tainted his toothbrush, he wouldn't use it for the rest of camp._

The rest of camp. _He still had to fucking stay here. For another_ month _. And he had to look that sick fuck in the face every day. He knew it was stupid, but he thrust three soapy fingers into his mouth, rubbing them along his teeth and his tongue. The taste made him gag, and he retched forward, vomiting dinner and the bit of Allen's release he'd swallowed into the shower drain. His eyes began burning again, and he wasn't sure if it was the soap, or if he was crying. He angled the water into the corner and leaned back against the wall, letting the warmth wash over him. Slowly, he sunk down along the wall until his tailbone hit the hard tiled floor. He lifted his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His eyes welled up with tears again, and he dropped his head down into his arms, beginning to sob._

 _How could his parents send him to this place? What was so wrong with being gay? He knew what the_ Bible _said about it, but why? Why was it so bad that his own parents would subject him to fucking_ torture _? If this was what_ God _wanted, then God was a fucking asshole._

_He'd never felt so alone in his life._

_He sat there until the water ran cold. When he got back to the cabin, he hung his wet tee shirt over the railing outside and crawled into bed. A few minutes passed before his bunkmate must've heard him sniffling._

_"Dude, you okay?" came the voice above him._

_Cas opened his mouth, but only a hoarse squeak came out._

_"What?"_

_Cas cleared his throat and tried again. "Fine," he managed. It was the first word he'd spoken, and he realized his throat was raw and painful.  
_

_"Where were you, dude?"_

_Across the room, Cas could hear their one cabin mate snoring, and the other one mumbling in his sleep. "The showers," Cas croaked._

_"You're gonna get in trouble sneakin' around after lights out, man," Garth said quietly._

_Cas closed his eyes. "I know."_

_"It's only another month, and then we can go home," Garth said quietly. Cas was silent, so Garth left it at that.  
_

He should contact Garth, see how he was doing. He hadn't spoken to him since the last day of camp. He'd looked him up on Facebook while he was shitfaced on his twenty-first birthday, and he was engaged to some woman named Bess. That was six years ago, though. Who knew what Garth- or any of the others- were doing now.

At the time, Cas had wondered if anyone else he'd attended camp with had gotten with women afterwards. Did everyone? Was he the only one they couldn't fix?

He knew better now, though. He pushed himself up off of the couch and took Floyd outside. He laid down in the grass and smoked a cigarette, staring up at the sky. It was a perfect light blue, with small wisps of fluffy white clouds passing by, and Cas couldn't help but feel worse about feeling so shitty on such a nice day. He should be out hiking, or swimming, or doing _something_ fun or productive in the nice weather. Not moping around feeling sorry for himself over something that happened more than a decade ago. He snuffed his cigarette out in the grass just as Floyd came to stand over him, tennis ball in his mouth. Cas sat up and took it from him, throwing it as hard as he could. It hit the ground prematurely and at an angle, bouncing to the other side of the yard, but Floyd didn't care, happily bounding after it.

Maybe playing with the dog was good enough.

He threw the ball for Floyd for a little while before heading back inside to spend some time with Roger. He laid back on the couch as Roger climbed all over it, and him. He finished the bottle, and Roger clung to his shirt as he rose to search the house for more.

"Dean's gotta have somethin'," he mumbled to Roger as he searched the cabinets. He went into the bedroom and kneeled down in front of Dean's night stand. Something in the back of his mind told him he shouldn't be snooping, but a louder part told him he wasn't looking through Dean's things- he was just looking for liquor. He pulled open the bottom drawer, and _bingo_! A bottle of Jack, with about a third left in it, rolled towards the front of the drawer. He grabbed it and was about to close the drawer when he spotted it- a photograph.

It was grainy, black and white, and it was clearly a still from Dean's security camera. It was the one in the living room, because it was a clear shot of the couch. Dean was leaned back into the cushions, feet up on the couch and eyes on the TV, and Cas was curled up in his lap, Dean's fingers threaded through his hair.

Cas' heart sank at the realization that Dean would drink and look at this picture. A small part of him told him that he should be creeped out, but he actually found it incredibly sweet. It was such a domestic moment, and when Dean thought he wouldn't see Cas again, it was the one that he'd chosen to print out to remember him by.

He brought the picture back out into the living room with him. As he stared at it, something twisted painfully in his chest. Dean had only known him for three months, and he only knew the person Cas pretended to be. Cool, calm, collected; fun and care-free. Cas hadn't shown him much else, and now it was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Dean was going to see that he was a fucked-up mess hiding behind a good façade, and even if he could look past that, asking him to tolerate his bat-shit crazy mother as well was just too much.

Dean was going to realize that it was all just _too much_. Maybe if Cas was better-looking, or had something to offer, like money, it could be worth sticking around. But he had nothing- in fact, he had less than nothing. He actually needed someone to support _him_ , in absolutely everything he did. He was like a child. He had absolutely nothing to offer but himself, and he didn't think that was really worth much.

* * *

" _Earth to Dean_."

"Uh... what?"

"You've been staring at the air filters for like ten minutes. You might want to finish up before your customer gets pissed," Jo said.

"Right," Dean said absentmindedly. He tried to focus. What car was he working on again?

"Jesus," Jo huffed, rolling her eyes and pushing Dean to reach past him. She grabbed a box off of the shelf and thrust it into his hands. "What is _with_ you today?"

Dean stared down at the box. "I've just got a lot on my mind," he mumbled.

"I can tell. Does this have anything to do with how deliriously happy you were yesterday and Saturday? And super emo before that? Oh, and before that, happy again." She paused. "Serious question, no judgement... are you bipolar?"

"No," Dean answered. "I've just got a lot going on." Cas hadn't answered any of his texts all day, and he was worried that between asking Cas to tell him about camp, and then pushing the therapy issue, he'd pushed Cas too far. He wasn't sure what exactly he was worried about... that Cas was going to leave? He didn't want to think about the possibility of Cas hurting himself, but he also couldn't rule it out completely. He wished he had a house phone to call.

"Well bury it deep down inside you, boy, least until closing time," came Bobby's gruff voice from behind them. No doubt that if Bobby knew the severity of the situation, he'd be singing a different tune. But Cas' problems weren't Dean's to share. "We got customer's waitin'."

"That reminds me," Dean said, whirling around to face him. He wasn't sure what reminded him, and now probably wasn't the best time, but he'd already started, so there was no use stopping now. "I need Monday off."

Bobby just stared at him. "Okay."

Dean stared back. "Okay?"

"Yes, okay!" Bobby barked. "Now get back to work." He turned around and walked back off towards his office. "Idjits," he muttered under his breath.

"Why was that _idjits_ plural?" Jo called after him. "What did I do?"

"Tough break, kid," Dean said as Bobby disappeared into his office. "Guilty by association."

"Yeah, well, see how much longer I associate with you then. ... _Idjit_."

Dean shook his head, frowning slightly. "Yeah... just doesn't hold the same power when you say it."

Jo rolled her eyes and walked off, leaving Dean to his own task. He threw himself into his work for the rest of the day, and by closing time, he was ready to crawl out of his skin. Worst case scenarios were playing over and over again in his head, and he needed to get home and know that Cas was alright.

He practically burst in the front door, and Cas was lying face-down on the couch, his fingers limply wrapped around the neck of Dean's bottle of Jack. It hung on the floor, only a few sips left, and Cas' bottle of pain medication sat on the coffee table. Floyd was curled up behind his legs, head up and staring straight at Dean. Dean's stomach dropped and he raced across the living room and grabbed Cas' shoulder, shaking him violently.

"Cas!"

Cas lifted his head and opened his eyes immediately, although not all the way. "Huh- Wha?" Blinking slowly, he tried to focus on Dean. "Why're you shakin' me?"

"Oh, christ," Dean breathed. "Thank god."

"Fuck god," Cas gurgled.

"How many of these did you take?" Dean asked frantically.

"How many'a what?" Cas asked, looking around in confusion.

"Your pain pills!"

"Oh, I'unno," Cas answered, squinting at the bottle in Dean's hand. "I don't think I took any at all."

All of the tension left Dean's body quicker than he thought possible. "Thank fuck," he sighed, setting the bottle back down on the coffee table. He stared down at Cas, and Cas stared back, until finally he seemed to understand why Dean was so worried.

"Fuck, Dean," he mumbled, clearly embarrassed. He rolled over so that he was facing the inside of the couch, and Floyd jumped down and walked away. "I'm not gonna kill mysel' just 'cause some guy fucked my face over a dec- a decade ago. Gimmie s'more credit than that."

Dean winced at the nonchalant way Cas referred to his childhood sexual abuse. Jesus christ, he really had detachment down to a science. He sat down behind the crook of Cas' knees and placed his hand on his arm. "Did something happen today?"

"No," Cas said petulantly. "Just fuckin' _life_. Same old, same old."

"So why are you completely shitfaced? Like, worse than yesterday?"

"'Cause it makes me feel better."

Dean tried again. "But what happened that you needed to feel better?"

Cas shrugged his shoulders, staring intently at the fabric on the back of the couch. "Jus'... everythin'. Last night, and this morning, and thinkin' about my mom showin' up at my job. Or my surgery. Or here. I didn't even charge my phone today 'cause I knew she'd be blowin' it up all day."

Dean was quiet for a moment. "...Do you want to get a restraining order?"

Cas closed his eyes. "For what? She'll just ignore it, 'n' then what? Have my mentally ill mother thrown in jail? She's not dangerous- at least not on purpose- jus' crazy. ...'N' what if the judge takes her side? This is Texas, what if-"

"Cas, even if he does, it doesn't matter. You're an adult, and he can't force you to have anything to do with your mom. And he can't force you to do any conversion therapy bullshit. This might be Texas, but it's still America. And... and even if all that weren't true, I wouldn't let anyone do that to you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again, me included. Do you understand?"

Cas didn't open his eyes, but he nodded.

"Do you feel any better?"

"I'm still worried about her comin' to PetSmart," he admitted.

"So quit," Dean said quickly. Cas' eyes shot open and he side-eyed Dean. "Do you even want to work there forever, anyway?"

"I can't... I can't quit," he mumbled, moving his gaze to the couch fabric again.

"Why not?"

"'Cause I need money," he said softly. Truth be told, though, it wasn't even much money anyway. Maybe he could stand on the street corner. He did have a pretty mouth, after all.

"No you don't, Cas," Dean said, interrupting his thoughts. Probably for the best- they were going nowhere good. "I can easily support two people. Quit. Take some time off to figure shit out." Throughout all of the conversations they'd had, Dean had never been able to figure out what Cas actually wanted to _do_ with his life. Maybe Cas didn't know either.

"You say that, but later you're gonna resent me for bein' a fuckin' moocher," Cas muttered.

"I don't think you're a moocher," Dean insisted. "I just want you to be happy. Some time to clear your head might help, y'know? Only responsibility: feeling better."

Cas closed his eyes again. That was even worse. What if he still didn't feel better? He'd have to admit then that he was inexplicably broken, and no amount of care or therapy or time off of work was going to fix it. "If that's what you think is best," he said weakly.

"What do _you_ think is best?"

"I have no idea."

"So think about it and decide."

"Okay." A minute or two passed, and he felt something brushing up against his butt. It was Dean, running his hands down the tail he'd bought Cas at the faire.

"How come you're wearing this?"

Cas shrugged. "Made me feel better."

"That's cute," Dean said automatically. "You're cute." Cas turned his head to bury it in the corner of the couch, trying to suppress a smile. He was supposed to be feeling shitty, dammit. "Why are you hiding?" Dean asked.

"'Cause I'm s'posed to be feelin' sorry for myself, 'n' you're ruinin' it."

"Oh, _I'm_ _sorry_ ," Dean said playfully, "Next time I think you're cute, I'll just keep it to myself." He slid two fingers up into the hem of Cas' hoodie, and Cas curled in on himself with a snort. "Would be a real _shame_ if I made you _smile_ , now wouldn't it?"

"Def'nitely," Cas snickered.

Dean shifted so that one knee was on the couch, leaning forward and climbing over Cas. He planted one arm on either side of Cas' cushion to hold himself up. Cas twisted more onto his back to look up at Dean, who caught his eye. "Just let me take care of you, Cas," he said softly. "It doesn't have to be forever. _Please_."

Wait, what? "...What d'you mean it doesn't-" Cas started, but Dean cut him off with a kiss.

"I just think that for now, you should take some time off," he said when he pulled away. "You can always get another job later. Or go to school or something." Cas opened his mouth but Dean kept talking. "And I know I'm asking you to put a lot of trust in me. Because if you want to leave, you'll have no money and nowhere to go. But..." _I love you_ , he wanted to say. _I'll do anything for you. And if you wanted to leave, I'd make it happen._ But Cas was fucking drunk, and if Dean said it now, Cas might not even remember it. Dean sighed. "Dammit, you gotta ease back on the drinking."

Cas averted his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Dean said quickly. "It just makes it hard to have important conversations. And I'm also worried, obviously. About the frequency."

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm out of booze, so tomorrow we'll be good," Cas said lightly, a soft smile on his lips. "Don't worry."

"I will always worry," Dean mumbled, before dipping down and capturing Cas' lips in his own. Immediately, Cas' hands were shoved up his shirt, roaming along his lower back. They made out lazily as Cas' hands moved lower, until he grabbed two handfuls of Dean's ass and pulled him down, simultaneously thrusting his own hips up.

Dean groaned into Cas' mouth before pulling away. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," Cas answered, sliding his hands back around to take a hold of Dean's belt buckle.

Dean leaned down to kiss him again. "You know," he murmured, "I'm still all gross from work, right?"

"Don't care," Cas mumbled into his mouth. "Like when you're all grimy an' smell like motor oil."

Dean couldn't hold in his laugh. "Right. I forgot about your mechanic kink."

"Shut up," Cas said, finally getting Dean's pants open and shoving them down.

"'S okay. I've got some of my own kinks, too, y'kn-" He broke off into a groan as Cas wrapped his hand around his cock.

"Yeah? Like what?" Cas leaned up to press a kiss to his collarbone, and Dean lowered himself down so he could reach better.

"You'll just have to find out." Both of Cas' hands moved away, and Dean lifted himself up again, looking between them to see why. Cas was sliding his pajama bottoms down to his knees, and his cock sprang free and came to rest on his stomach. Dean lined himself up and took them both in his hand, tugging slowly, and Cas' eyes slipped closed, a small moan falling from his lips.

Dean leaned down, burying his face between Cas' face and his hoodie and pressing his lips to his neck. Cas turned his head to give Dean better access, and he dragged his mouth lower, nibbling on Cas' skin. A drunken giggle bubbled up out of Cas, and he thrust his hips up into Dean's fist.

"I missed this so much," Dean murmured against his skin. "I'm so sorry I-"

"Less talking," Cas said, his breath warm against Dean's ear. "More humping."

Dean laughed lightly but returned his focus to the task at hand. The side of his index finger was wet with precome, and he brought his thumb up to swipe the rest around, gently pressing into Cas' slit as he did so. Cas turned his head, so Dean lifted his, and Cas began kissing his neck. He worked his way down to his throat, where he latched on, sucking hard on Dean's skin.

A fresh bit of precome oozed out of Dean at that, and he began jerking them both a little harder. Cas sunk his teeth in, simultaneously digging his fingernails into Dean's shoulder blades, and Dean emitted a whimper he wasn't particularly proud of, coming all over their stomachs.

"Fuck," he breathed as Cas released his neck, "That was- that was _really_ fast. I'm sorry."

"'S fine," Cas said, a soft smile on his face. Dean let go of them and pushed himself up, scooting back and settling back on his heels. He leaned forward, setting one hand on Cas' stomach and wrapping the other around his cock. He gave it a gentle tug, and a fresh bit of precome made it's way out of the tip, dribbling down the shaft and onto Dean's thumb. He licked his lips, ready to wrap them around the head, when he noticed his own mess still splattered across Cas' stomach. Continuing to stroke, he used his other hand to swipe through it. It was still warm. As he looked down at his fingers, he realized he'd never eaten his own before, but was it really that much different?

He lifted his eyes and Cas was staring at him intently, hungrily, and it almost seemed like he was holding his breath as he waited to see what Dean would do. Never one to disappoint, Dean pushed his fingers into his mouth, holding eye contact with Cas as he licked them clean.

Cas' eyes widened and his cock throbbed in Dean's hand. Dean quickly dove down, shoving it into his mouth, but not before the first of Cas' release hit him right in the face; a bit on his cheek, some on his lip. Cas tossed his head back against the armrest of the couch as Dean milked him through his orgasm, swallowing any that hadn't been wasted on his face.

When he finally lifted up, Cas was looking at him with what could only be described as awe. "That was..." He trailed off and licked his lips. "I wasn't expectin' you to do that. An' I wasn't expectin' to find it so hot. _Fuck_."

Dean smiled briefly before swiping his tongue across his upper lip to get what had landed there. Cas let out a little whine, his hips twitching halfheartedly, but he didn't have another round in him, and Dean knew it. He gave him a gentle smack on his sticky stomach. "Let's clean you up. Want burgers?"

"Yes," Cas sighed blissfully. "That sounds amazing."

* * *

Cas groaned and rolled over, willing his alarm to stop ringing. It didn't work, of course, so he had to roll back over and turn it off. Dean was gone already, but it was still early. He silenced his alarm and got out of bed, dragging his feet to the bathroom to piss and brush his teeth.

The night before, he'd plugged his phone back in and turned it on. Without reading the texts or listening to the voicemails from his mother, he'd blocked her number and set his alarm. Today was a new day. Today was the day Castiel Novak was going to get his shit together.

After he brushed his teeth, he took a moment to study his reflection in the mirror. If he was being honest, he barely recognized himself. Two days of binge-drinking (okay, maybe more like three months with some breaks in-between) had left him looking pale and tired; more tired than usual. The cut on his cheek was healing, and the stitches had been removed the morning he'd picked up his car, but it was still pink and shiny, raised and hard. It would be a while before it was fully healed. His nose looked like something out of a Picasso painting, and five o'clock shadow littered his chin and neck. Beneath that, he could see his jawline had lost definition from the weight he'd put on. He needed a haircut, too; his mom had told him he was looking like a hippie.

 _No._ He wasn't going to think about any of the shit his mom had said about him. He needed a haircut, yes, but it was because _he_ wanted one. It was getting too long for _his_ liking. Fuck what Naomi had to say about it. _She didn't matter._

As he stared into the mirror, he remembered all of that positive affirmation crap he'd talked about with Dean. Apparently Dean's father had done a brief stint in AA, and an exercise they'd instructed had been to look in the mirror and say positive things. Apparently after a while, it re-wired the brain into actually believing it. John had joked about how stupid it was, and while Dean had thought it was kind of dumb, too, he admitted he'd tried it. Cas figured it couldn't hurt to try either. He found himself struggling with something positive to say, though, and instead narrowed his eyes at his reflection. Maybe tough-love would be better. "Look at you. You need to get it together. It's fucking pathetic. You've been through ten tons of shit and you're still here. ...Mostly because you're too chicken-shit to kill yourself. ...But that doesn't matter now. Today, you're going to get your shit together. You're going to stop feeling sorry for yourself and fucking _get it together._ You are Cas fucking Novak, and you can do this. ...And if you blow it, if you blow this chance with Dean, I will _never_ forgive you."

Okay, definitely not very positive, but good enough.

He showered, shaved, and got dressed, then gathered all of his dirty clothes from the past few days off of the floor and brought them down into the basement. The settings on the machine seemed simple enough, so he tossed everything in and started the cycle. When he went back upstairs, he made the bed and emptied the little garbage bin into the one in the kitchen. If he wasn't going to work, the least he could do was keep the house clean.

He wanted to tell himself that he needed time to think about whether he was going to quit or not, but the truth was that as soon as Dean had suggested it, he'd felt nothing but relief. Working had been a good distraction and got him out of the house, and he obviously needed income, but now that he was at Dean's, he'd been dreading going back. Working at PetSmart was okay, sure, but it was a dead-end job that paid barely more than minimum wage. He'd been there for nearly five years now, and he'd never been offered any kind of promotion. They couldn't even guarantee him full-time, because then they'd have to offer him health benefits, and all of those were things he had to start thinking about now.

Dean was an adult- he worked a full-time job, he payed his mortgage, he went to his doctors appointments. Hell, he probably even had a savings account. Cas was just pretending to be an adult. He had no idea what he was doing, but he wanted to try, and Dean said he'd help him. So he could help Dean, too, by at least taking care of things at the house.

He put on some music and cleared some cups off of the coffee table from the night before. He brought them into the kitchen and washed them, along with the dishes Dean had left from breakfast. When he was done, he went back down into the basement and threw his clothes into the dryer. He looked around for a minute until he found cleaning supplies, which he brought upstairs with him. He vacuumed the living room and the guest room, which still held all of the boxes of his stuff, and swept and mopped the kitchen and living room.

As the floor dried, he brought everything back down into the basement. His clothes were dry, so he carried them back upstairs and began folding them on the bed. He briefly thought that he should wash Dean's clothes as well, but he didn't want to risk shrinking or otherwise ruining them and making Dean mad. So he put his own clothes away and left Dean's in the hamper. Back in the kitchen, he wiped down the table and the counters, then opened all of the windows, before collapsing onto the couch.

He was actually sweating a little. Ugh, gross. Two hours of housework and he was _sweating_.

He laid there for a while, staring up at the ceiling and debating what he was going to say when he called work. He felt bad quitting without two weeks notice, but he was only due back for a few days anyway, and then he had to take off again for his surgery. He was pretty sure they'd gotten used to a new schedule without him by now.

He scrolled through Facebook for a while to distract himself, but eventually he knew he had to man up and call. He dialed PetSmart, and his co-worker Marv answered.

"Thank you for calling PetSmart, where pets are family. How can I help you?"

"Jeez, Marv, could you sound any less enthusiastic?"

"...Cas?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"Nothing much. How are you?"

"I'm feeling okay, thanks. Can you put Pam on?"

"Uh... I _think_ she's on lunch. Wait, no, she just walked in. Hold on." Marv put him on hold, and about a minute passed before Pam came to the phone.

"Cas! How are you feelin', hun?"

"Better, thanks. How have you been?"

"Oh, just dandy," she chirped, and she only sounded a _little_ sarcastic.

Cas laughed a little, but even he could tell it sounded stilted. "That's good. So, um... I'm calling because... well-"

"You're not coming back, are you?"

That totally caught Cas off guard. "I- I'm sorry. How did you know?"

She laughed. "I don't know. I could just tell. Can I ask why?"

Cas hesitated, unsure of how to answer that. "Just... personal stuff."

"I see." She paused. "You're better than this place anyway, Cas. Although I loved having you as an employee, you could be doing way more important things than wasting your time here."

Cas was kind of shocked to hear his general manager say such things about her place of employment. "Uh... thank you?"

"Anytime. I honestly wish I could've promoted you, but none of the others in management ever plan on leaving." She sighed. "You know how it is."

"I understand."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"You weren't drinking, were you?"

"Uh, what? When?"

"When you had your accident."

"Oh, no, no," Cas said quickly. He wondered if he should mention he'd been smoking, but he really didn't feel that it was the same thing. He drove high daily and he'd never been in an accident before. People went out drinking and driving _once_ and killed people. It just wasn't the same thing. "I was actually driving because my friends were drinking. So I was sent to the store. I hit a deer, by the way. Kevin didn't tell you?"

"He did. He didn't say you were drinking, but he also didn't say you weren't. ...I was just asking." She sounded like she was finished, but before Cas could say anything, she continued. "Anyway, I'm glad you're alright. Don't be a stranger now."

Cas smiled into the phone. "Of course not. I still have to get supplies for Roger, anyway."

"Roger? ...Isn't that the one you adopted from us like two and a half years ago? He's still alive?"

Cas glanced over at Roger's cage, where he was sound asleep in his hammock. "Yeah."

"Wow."

"I know."

"Alright, well I've got to run, there's a customer up front pitching a fit about grooming. Dog's been shaved bald, but the customer's swearing _he wasn't matted_ , the usual." Cas could practically hear her eye-roll over the phone. "I guarantee if I go back into the salon, they're going to show me the rug they shaved off."

Cas laughed a little. "Okay. I'll see you around."

"Take care of yourself, Cas."

"I will." The line went dead and Cas was left staring at Roger's cage. He must've dozed off shortly after, because he woke up to the click of Floyd's nails on the floor as he excitedly danced around Dean.

"I need to take you to get your nails done," Dean said from the front door. Cas popped his head up and twisted around, and Dean looked up and smiled at him.

"Hey. It smells really good in here, what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why does it smell so good?" He straightened up, letting his hand fall away from patting Floyd's head, and glanced around. "Did you clean?"

"Yeah," Cas answered.

Dean looked back at him again. "Wow, thank you." He made his way towards the couch. "You didn't have to do that."

Cas shrugged. "Least I could do." He watched as Dean took a seat next to him on the couch. "I quit my job," he said quickly.

Dean didn't look the least bit surprised. He just smiled warmly and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Cas' mouth. "Good."

Cas smiled against his lips. "Why's that so good?" he asked as Dean pulled away.

"Because, now you can hang out with me all the time." Dean pulled back to look Cas in the eye, his own wide and bright. "Or spend some time on one of your hobbies or whatever. Or do something you couldn't do at your moms. And we can go hiking. Or camping on the weekends. Or a _vacation_. Or-"

"Okay, okay," Cas chuckled. "I get it. Hiking sounds fun. But maybe not, like, extreme hiking yet. Just... some easy trails." Dean nodded. "But, you wanted to go to the grocery store right?"

"Right. Yeah. ...You're ready now?"

"Yes. Tomorrow is already Thursday."

"That doesn't matter," Dean said, looking at him carefully. "You need to be ready."

"Well, I think I am."

"Okay." He glanced around. "Do you want to smoke while I make a list?"

Cas nodded, picking his pack of cigarettes up off the coffee table and pulling out a pre-rolled joint. "After this I only have enough to roll one more," he announced, holding it up.

"Do you want money for more?"

Cas slightly shook his head. "I have money. I got paid on Friday. Unfortunately it's my last check, though."

"Well..." Dean trailed off and shrugged. "Save it for whatever. You've smoked me up a lot anyway, so I'll get this one."

"...Are you sure? I usually buy it by the ounce. And it's two-hundred thirty dollars."

Dean pulled a face that clearly read _So?_ "Okay."

Cas wasn't going to argue. He would run out of money soon, anyway, so unless they quit smoking, Dean was soon going to be paying exclusively. "Okay. Thank you." Dean nodded and went into the kitchen to make a grocery list as Cas lit the joint.

_xxx_

Walking through the grocery store was torture. Cas hadn't considered the ramifications of getting high on an empty stomach and then spending an hour walking down endless aisles of food. He watched and listened as Dean tossed things into the cart, occasionally saying something about the item, but he found himself focusing on all of the delicious-looking things that they were walking _right past_. How did Dean avoid temptation like this _every single day_?

"Alright, dude, hear me out," Dean said as they came to a stop. "Sounds fucking disgusting, but it's actually pretty good." He pulled a small, square package off of the shelf and held it out in front of Cas.

"Seaweed?" Cas read, squinting at the package. "People eat _seaweed?_ "

"Yeah, man, people will eat anything." Dean tossed it in the cart. "If you don't want it, I'll eat it."

"I'll try it," Cas promised.

"Dean?"

As Dean turned around, Cas leaned to the left to see around him. A pretty brunette in her early thirties stood in front of Dean, holding the hand of a toddler.

"Lisa?" Dean said, and he was clearly shocked. "Wow. Hey. ...It's been forever."

"I know," she said, smiling brightly. "I would think I'd see you around more, especially if you shop here. I come here every week."

"I, uh, usually come on Saturdays. So... how are you?"

"I'm good," she answered. "What about you?"

"I- I'm alright."

"You look good."

"Uh... thank you." Cas felt pretty invisible behind Dean, but that was fine by him. He stayed silent, watching the interaction like a hawk. "So, uh, who's this?" Dean asked, looking down at the child.

"This is Ben," Lisa said, holding his hand up a bit. "Say hi, Ben." The child held up his free hand and waved, but he didn't speak. Dean gave a small wave in return. "And who's this?" Lisa asked, nodding her head at Cas.

"Oh," Dean whirled around. "Shit, sorry," he said, directed to Cas. "Cas. Cas, this is Lisa."

Cas gave her a small smile. A snarky _I've heard so much about you_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. He didn't want to embarrass Dean by making it look like he constantly talked about his ex. "Hello."

"What happened to your face?"

"Car accident," Dean supplied.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "Are you okay?"

"I am, thank you. Although my face is my most important asset, so... _this_ ," Cas gestured towards his face, "is unfortunate."

Lisa laughed, clearly recognizing his attempt at humor for what it was, but Dean furrowed his brow. "Your face is definitely not your most important asset," he said.

Cas forced out a laugh. "Wow, thanks."

"That- shit, that's not what I meant," Dean hurried to explain. Cas smiled in understanding. He knew it was intended to be a compliment, he'd just wanted to mess with Dean.

"You always knew just the right thing to say, Dean," Lisa commented with a smirk.

Dean frowned, turning his head to look at her again. "...Right."

"So... what about you? Any kids yet?"

Dean looked away. "...No."

"Oh. How long have you two been together?"

"Six months," they answered together, and then shared a quick glance. Okay, so at least they were on the same page with that.

"Told ya you'd end up with a guy," Lisa teased.

Dean scowled. "Uh, no, you insisted I'd _cheat_ on you with a guy." Lisa looked away and Dean looked down at Ben. "How old are you, Ben?"

The little boy, who'd been obliviously staring at the products on the shelf, turned to Dean. "Four an' a half!" he answered.

Dean looked back at Lisa. "Is there a reason you came over here?"

Lisa regarded him carefully. "...Just to say hello."

Dean crossed his arms. "You're absolutely positive."

"Yes. I know how it looks, but..." She lowered her voice. "I'm married. We met like a month before I broke things off with you."

Dean uncrossed his arms. "So... you cheated on me." _How fucking ironic._

"No. We didn't do anything until you and I were done." That wasn't much of a comfort. Dean imagined her emotionally cheating for weeks, only finally taking the step to break it off with him (via text message, no less) because she couldn't wait any longer to get into bed with guy number two.

Dean scoffed, turning away. "Whatever. It was good to see you," he said dismissively.

"Yeah... you too," she said quietly. As they turned to leave, Dean looked back, and Ben was dragging behind her, waving at him. Dean forced a smile and waved back before they disappeared around the corner.

He turned back to Cas, shoulders sagging. "Come on."

Cas again quietly followed, but now he watched Dean closely. He walked mechanically, grabbing items and putting them in the cart like he'd done it thousands of times before. Cas figured he had; Dean was clearly a creature of habit. Cas could tell what he usually got for himself and what he was getting for Cas, because Dean would stop and check the nutrition labels on something new- occasionally asking Cas if he would like it- before deciding whether to get it or not. Cas appreciated the attempt to cater to his tastes.

"What are you looking for on there?" Cas asked after about ten minutes of silence.

"A few things," Dean answered. "Calories, fat content, carbs, fiber. I'll explain more later."

Cas just nodded. Dean clearly didn't feel like talking anymore, and he found himself irritated at Lisa for ruining Dean's mood, especially after Cas had already wasted their last two days together in his own funk.

When they got back to the house, Cas helped Dean put the groceries away. In addition to being the helpful thing to do, it helped him learn where Dean kept everything, which was important if he was going to be living there. As they put the last few boxes in the pantry, Cas asked if Dean would like him to make dinner.

"I can make spaghetti or something."

Dean took a moment to think about it, and then he smiled at Cas. "Sure. Thank you. I'm gonna take a shower."

* * *

Of all the times to run into Lisa, it had to be tonight. Dean scrubbed at his hair vigorously under the water, thinking back to what she'd said. _"Told ya you'd end up with a guy."_ He gritted his teeth. _See if I ever go to the grocery store on a fucking Wednesday again._ The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Who the hell did she think she was? Like she could predict the fucking future? If he'd met Cas while he was with Lisa, they would've just been friends. Although, he couldn't really imagine ever only being friends with Cas, and as he thought on it longer, he slowly began to realize that maybe she was right.

He'd never really been able to imagine himself with women in any kind of lasting sense. He'd tried with Lisa, and even despite their differences of opinion, they got along, but underneath that it had still felt forced. He'd had no desire to move in with her, no desire to really move past what they'd been doing, and maybe Lisa had sensed that. It still didn't excuse what she did back then, or what she said at the store, either, but he stepped out of the shower a little less angry. They were both happy now, so whatever.

He may have been attracted to either sex, but he was pretty sure he was meant to _be_ with a guy. Unless of course Cas decided he wanted a sex change or something. He didn't give a shit what Cas had in his pants, as long as it was attached to Cas. He finished drying off and headed into the bedroom, where he hung his towel on the back of the door. He pulled open the top drawer to his dresser for a fresh pair of boxers, pausing as his eye caught the pink fabric shoved into the corner.

He pushed his boxers out of the way and pulled the pair of panties forward. He looked down at it as he ran his thumb along the stitching. He remembered the night before, when he'd told Cas, _You'll just have to find out_. He could put them on underneath his pajama pants, and unless they got to fooling around, Cas would be none the wiser. His stomach fluttered at the uncertainty of it. Cas could discover his kink tonight, and either find it just as hot as Dean did, or weird as hell. Alternatively, if he managed to keep them hidden, he could slip them off with his pajama pants before bed, and his secret would live to be discovered another day. Either way, it was kind of thrilling.

He quickly yanked them on and followed them with his PJ bottoms before gently sliding the drawer closed. He pulled a tee shirt over his head and went back out into the living room. Cas was at the counter, pouring sauce onto two bowls of pasta. Dean smiled to himself. He would've put only half as much pasta on plates, with a side salad and some bread, but Cas would learn. He couldn't wait to see the first real meal Cas made by himself, and show him that eating better didn't have to be boring or even hard, once you got used to it.

He slid into place behind him, snaking his arms around his waist, and rested his chin on his shoulder. "Looks good."

Cas melted back into him, and Dean took the opportunity to take a deep huff of Cas' scent. He smelled just like he always did, with just the slightest hint of sweat. "You smell good," he murmured, pressing his lips to Cas' neck.

Cas smiled. "Alright, down boy. No humping."

Dean emitted a small whine and pushed his right knee between Cas' thighs. He thrust up twice against Cas' left leg, and Cas giggled, trying to wriggle out of his grip. Dean let him go immediately when his dick throbbed against the tight confines of his underwear, taking a step back. "Shit," he muttered.

Cas pulled open one of the kitchen drawers and grabbed two forks. "What?" he asked, picking one bowl up and holding it out to Dean.

"Nothing. Thank you." He took the bowl and hurried off towards the couch. He set it down on the coffee table and dropped down onto the cushion, trying to adjust himself before Cas came around. Touching it just made it worse, but he angled it up and tucked it into the waistband of the panties.

"Why are you trying so desperately to hide your boner?" Cas asked nonchalantly, coming around the other end of the couch with his own bowl of spaghetti.

Dean blinked, unaware of how obvious he'd been. "I'm... not," he protested weakly, but Cas clearly wasn't convinced.

"Oookay," he said, leaning back into the cushion and stabbing at the spaghetti. "Sure."

"Because we're having dinner," Dean blurted out after a beat of silence. "It's not... dinner-appropriate."

"All boners are appropriate," Cas said. He blew on his forkful of pasta. "Especially when I give them to you."

Dean swallowed. "Okay." Cas didn't say anything else, instead leaning forward and hitting the power button on the remote. He began flipping through the channels, so Dean started on his food.

After they finished, they continued watching a bit of television as Cas laid in Dean's lap. Dean threaded his fingers through his hair, and Cas was reminded of the photograph he'd found in Dean's drawer. Speaking of that, he hadn't seen the photograph on the table since the day before. He didn't remember putting it back, so Dean had to have known he'd found it...

"If you plan on starting tomorrow, we should download that app," Dean said suddenly, interrupting Cas' train of thought. Cas nodded against his leg. He reached out and grabbed his phone from the coffee table and tapped the screen a few times. Once he got to the app store, he handed it over to Dean and laid his head back down.

"Okay, so I need to enter in some information. How tall are you?"

"Five eleven."

Dean tapped the screen again. "Current weight?"

Cas stared at the TV. "I don't know, actually. In May I had my yearly physical and I was two-fifteen, but..."

Dean straightened up. "Come with me."

Cas sat up to give Dean room to stand, then stood as well and followed him into the bathroom, his heart kicking up in his chest when he spotted the scale on the floor.

"I don't really want to know," he mumbled.

"C'mon, Cas, you're gonna wanna know how much you lost."

Cas sighed. "You're right." He took a step closer, stopping and looking up at Dean. "That's very optimistic, by the way."

"It won't work if you aren't."

Cas stepped onto the scale and gave it a moment to register. When he looked down at the numbers, he couldn't help feeling disappointed. "Two thirty-seven," he said softly.

Dean didn't even bat an eye, looking down at Cas' phone and typing it in. "Goal weight?" Cas didn't answer, still staring down at the scale. "Cas?"

"I don't know," he said finally, still not looking up. "I've been overweight since I was fifteen."

Dean was quiet for a minute or two. "Okay, google says normal weight for your height is 136 to 178."

Cas looked horrified. "Are you saying I'm a _hundred_ fucking pounds overweight?"

"No," Dean said quickly. "This chart doesn't take gender into account, or muscle mass, and everyone's built different anyway." He paused. "And I thought it was about getting healthy, not losing weight, anyway? Look, I'll put two hundred as your goal and we'll see what happens, okay?"

Cas nodded, looking back down at the scale. "Okay."

"Okay, says if you keep it at fifteen-hundred calories per day you'll lose two pounds a week."

"That's it? That'll take forever," Cas groaned.

"That's just a goal. It'll probably come off faster, at least at first, but too fast and you'll fuck up your metabolism," Dean pointed out.

"I guess." He stepped backwards off the scale and caught his reflection in the mirror that Dean had on the back of the bathroom door. At least he wasn't flopping over the waistband of his pants yet. His recent growth had been more out than anything, and his stomach was still firm, not enough to succumb to gravity quite yet. He worried that he may still be left with a little extra skin there when it was all said and done. He was at least going to be left with the faint new stretch marks he had acquired along the underside.

"Hey," Dean said.

"Sorry," Cas said, blinking rapidly. "I zoned out."

"I can tell." He paused, inspecting Cas' face. "Look... don't be so worried. Just eat what I tell you for now, and let it happen." Cas nodded, and they left the bathroom to get comfortable again on the couch. Cas leaned heavily into Dean's side, and Dean wrapped his arm around Cas' shoulders, his fingertips dangling and brushing over his stomach.

"Thanks for moving in with me, Cas," he said quietly.

Cas snorted softly. "Thank _you_ for letting me."

"I like having you here." Cas twisted his neck to look up and Dean leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. When he pulled back a bit, Cas leaned up further and kissed him again, swiping his tongue across his lower lip. Dean pressed his palm to Cas' stomach and slid it down, wriggling his fingers under the waistband of his pajama pants. He palmed Cas' cock through his underwear, feeling it growing hard beneath his hand.

He slipped his hand into Cas' boxer briefs, wrapping his fingers around the warm flesh and tugging gently. A small whine escaped Cas into Dean's mouth before he broke the kiss and tipped his head back. Dean ducked his head down to kiss and suck on his neck as he continued to play with his cock.

Suddenly he let go and removed his hand, and Cas opened his eyes, whining a little in protest.

"Lean back," Dean suggested, his voice low.

Cas sat up and scooted to the other end of the couch, leaning back against the armrest. Dean leaned forward and dug his fingers into the waistband of his pants and underwear, yanking them down until they settled at his knees. He placed his hands on Cas' thighs, pressing his thumbs into the flesh and admiring Cas' hard length, standing at full attention and resting against his stomach.

"Fuck..." he breathed. "You're fucking gorgeous."

Above him, Cas sucked in a breath, and Dean's eyes flicked up to see Cas' face turning slightly pink. "Do you- uh... really?" he mumbled.

Dean met his eyes. "Of course, Cas... or I wouldn't say it," he said sincerely. Cas averted his eyes, and Dean let out a little sigh. "Cas, look. I know how you feel, I do. Trust me. But there's nothing wrong with you."

Cas looked down at himself, placing both hands on his stomach and pressing his fingertips into the soft flesh. "It's not that I necessarily think there's anything wrong with it, or that I myself even dislike it..." he admitted. "I just have a hard time believing that others find it attractive. Considering what everybody says about the matter."

"Fuck what people say," Dean said quickly. He sighed again, a small exhale through his nose, and chewed on his lower lip. "I think you're hot, Cas," he said quickly, before he lost his nerve. "Okay? I thought you were before and I think you are now, and you will be no matter what you look like in the future. So..." He lowered his eyes, watching his own hand as he slowly ran it up Cas' thigh, feeling Cas' skin jump slightly beneath his fingers. "Let's just focus on your inside, and whatever happens on the outside, happens, okay?"

Cas nodded. "Okay," he said softly.

Dean leaned forward to press their lips together, kissing him softly before pulling away. He glanced down, and Cas was starting to go soft, so he lowered himself down onto Cas' legs and rested his face on the inside of his thigh. He took him in his hand and gave a slow tug towards his face, dragging the tip along his bottom lip and getting a good whiff of Cas' scent. Cas closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, tossing one arm over the back of the couch. He quickly began to harden again, and Dean took him into his mouth all at once.

Cas let out a gasp, tightly gripping the couch with the hand of the arm thrown over the back. Dean lifted back up, swiping his tongue back and forth across the shaft along the way, before dipping it into the slit.

Cas made an aborted noise that was probably supposed to be a swear, his eyes fluttering closed as he let his head drop back. "Shit," he managed finally, swinging his head back up again to peer down at Dean through hooded lids.

Dean groaned onto his cock as his own hardened, pressing up against the tight fabric of the panties. Cas straightened his leg out, and his shin rubbed right up along Dean's crotch. Instinctively, Dean thrust his hips and ground down against it.

A low chuckle bubbled up out of Cas and a hand came to rest on Dean's head, fingers tangling in and carding through his hair. "Good boy."

Dean actually whimpered a bit, and this time it wasn't meant to be funny. Cas' comment was clearly a throwback to the conversation earlier at the kitchen counter, but he melted inside at Cas' praise, and holy shit did he want more of it. He pulled off his cock and dove lower, continuing to jerk him off as his nose brushed up against Cas' perineum. Cas kicked one leg out to hang off the couch, spreading them for Dean. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth to unsuccessfully stifle a groan as Dean licked a stripe right across his hole.

Dean placed his free hand on Cas' thigh, digging his finger into the meat as he pressed his tongue into Cas, who squirmed and moaned. As Cas got closer, Dean pulled back and thrust one finger past the rim. Cas moaned again, long and low, and Dean quickly found his prostate. He took the head of Cas' cock back into his mouth and pressed against it, hard.

Cas' gasped and bucked his hips up, forcing himself further into Dean's mouth. Dean swallowed around him and he came straight down Dean's throat. Dean removed his fingers, but he continued to pump Cas' dick, swallowing everything he had. Cas was babbling something; Dean only caught _so good_ and _fuck_ and _amazing_. He quickly pushed himself up and climbed onto Cas so that he was directly on top of him, diving down to hungrily attack Cas' mouth.

Cas eagerly kissed him back, mouth open and tasting himself on Dean's tongue. He brought his hands up and tucked his fingers into the waistband of Dean's pajamas, and Dean broke the kiss and pulled away. "No, this was just about you tonight."

Cas gave him the most adorable, post-orgasm confusion face ever. "Why?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno."

Cas raised one eyebrow. "So you're telling me that you _don't_ want me to suck your dick."

"I... no?"

Cas gave him an odd look. "So then what's the problem?"

"I... I dunno." Dean shrugged his shoulders. "I just wanted to make you feel good. You don't always have to reciprocate."

Cas looked like he'd had his mind blown. "...Okay. ...I kind of thought there was this unspoken rule that both parties should get off."

"Probably. But it's not a big deal to me."

"Okay." He shifted a bit and pulled his pants back up, and Dean lowered himself down to lie his head on his stomach.

"You're comfortable," he murmured after a while.

"Thank you," Cas said, running his fingers through Dean's hair.

Dean had always loved having his head scratched. He couldn't stop thinking about that _Good boy_ Cas had given him. He'd always found dom/sub relationships incredibly hot, but he'd never trusted anyone enough to try it with. He definitely trusted Cas though, no doubt about it. His eyes drifted closed and all he could picture was Cas ramming himself into him from behind, yanking his head back by his hair and telling him he was _good_.

His flagging erection was quickly hardening again. Fuck. Obviously rough kinky shit wasn't going to happen right away, but he had to start somewhere, right?

Dean cleared his throat. "Continuing with the theme of making you feel good..." He swallowed down his nerves and forced himself to just spit it out. "If you wanna fuck, I'm down to bottom."

Cas didn't respond right away, and Dean felt worry bubbling in his stomach, but he still didn't lift his head to look at Cas' face. Instead, he continued to stare at the TV, head resting on Cas' midsection. Cas' stomach rose as he drew in a deep breath, lifting Dean's head with it, and falling again as he released it. "I don't want you to do that simply because it would make _me_ feel good."

"Well, I'm pretty sure it feels good on the receiving end, too," Dean mumbled.

"You're _pretty_ sure?"

Dean rolled his eyes back to see Cas' face, and he was looking down at him with a smirk. "I'm sure," he grumbled, returning his eyes to the TV, although he wasn't really watching it. "I'm no stranger to toys, man, I've just... never bottomed with a person."

"So is it about you wanting to try it, or you wanting to please me?"

Dean bit his lip. "Both."

Cas chuckled. "I like that answer." He took in a small breath. "Well, I am also _down_ , so... say the word and I'll stick it in your butt."

Dean snorted a laugh. "Wow, you suck at pillow talk." He pushed himself up on his hands to look at Cas.

Cas blinked, a small frown creasing his features. "You thought I was serious? Perhaps it's my sarcasm that needs work."

Dean just smiled and shook his head before leaning in for a quick kiss. When he pulled away, he extracted his legs from Cas' and planted them on the floor. Turning to face the couch, he slid one arm behind Cas' knees and one behind his neck, rolling him towards his chest and lifting him up.

"Dean," Cas said quickly, reaching up to latch one arm onto Dean's shoulder. "I- I don't think this is a good idea. Dean- I'm serious. I'm too heavy."

Dean let out a breathy chuckle, turning away from the couch. "Come on, Cas, I used to carry an extra, like, two of you around twenty-four seven."

"Okay," Cas said warily, looking down at the floor, "Just... please don't drop me."

"I won't," Dean assured him, taking a few tentative steps away from the couch. Cas clung onto him and didn't squirm, so he continued across the living room and into the hallway.

"With this kind of treatment, I feel like _I_ should be bottoming," Cas joked, laughing into his chest.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't be like that." He stepped into the bedroom and deposited Cas onto the bed.

Cas bounced on the mattress, smiling up at Dean. "Thanks for the ride. I have to pee though."

Dean rolled his eyes again, pretending to be impatient, but he was actually grateful for the extra time. Now that they were in the bedroom, the nervousness he'd been pushing down was getting harder to ignore. Cas climbed off of the bed and walked out of the room, and he suddenly remembered: the panties. With what was on the table now, he really didn't want to risk turning Cas off right beforehand. The panty kink could be introduced another day. He hooked his thumbs into both waistbands and pulled both pieces of clothing down in one swift movement. Stepping out of them, he balled them up to conceal the panties inside and dropped the wad of fabric onto the carpet. His tee shirt joined them.

After lowering himself down onto the mattress, he swung his legs over and settled back against the pillows. Looking down at himself, he figured it wasn't half bad. Back in the day, he wouldn't even have been able to see his thighs from this angle and position. Now, he could see everything. He could see the little trail of hair running from his navel to his pubes, interrupted only barely by the faint scar running across his pelvis. He could see the slight v-shape of his hips, and yes, he could see the tops of his thighs in all their glory. They were a little thick, and he bent one leg at the knee, relieved to see that they didn't look any different when they weren't resting on the bed. All of that extra skin really was completely gone- it was just muscle.

He caught sight of his flaccid dick and thought _Shit. Soft dicks aren't sexy._ He quickly took it in his hand, gently squeezing the shaft and rubbing his thumb along the head. He had no idea what it would feel like to have an actual live dick inside of him, let alone Cas', but he conjured up the memory of finally sinking himself into Cas for the first time a few days prior, and he felt himself stiffening in his palm. He hoped it would feel just as good for Cas as it did for him.

He was at half-mast when Cas came back in the doorway. His gaze immediately zeroed in on the hand Dean was working his dick with, and his tongue came out to wet his lips. He walked across the room and to the foot of the bed, where he shoved his pants down and stepped out of them. He was already growing hard, and his eyes never left Dean as he stripped his shirt off and tossed it to the floor.

But then he just stood there, watching Dean stroke himself. His hands hung at his sides, twitching slightly as if he was fighting not to come over and touch. Suddenly, Dean was reminded of something he'd said on Friday- blurted out, really- that he wanted to correct. Something embarrassing and kind of untrue; something his father had made rude assumptions about when he'd burst into his room that night so long ago.

"Can I say something really quick?"

Cas quickly flicked his eyes away. "I'm sorry, was I making you uncomfortable?"

"No," Dean said, still tugging. "Not at all. But... do you remember on Friday? When I made that dumb joke about finally being able to, uh, jerk off again?"

Cas' eyebrows scrunched together as he walked over to the bed and took a seat on the end.

Dean averted his eyes. "I just wanted to clarify that it wasn't that I actually ever _couldn't._ I just... didn't really want to." His hand came to a stop at the base of his rapidly flagging dick. "I mean... what's the point when you're positive _no one_ will _ever_ want to touch you?"

Cas took a moment to think about what to say, and Dean really liked that about him. He thought about what he was going to say before he said it, and that was something that Dean could probably work on. "Have you been thinking about that all week?" Cas finally asked.

"Sort of," Dean admitted. "I kind of... took pride in the fact that I could still do everything by myself, y'know? So as soon as that came out of my mouth sounding that way I regretted it." He scoffed a short laugh. "It seems like I'm pretty good at embarrassing myself." Like at work... back in school... at the grocery store in front of Lisa. His eyes traveled down to his hand, which was cupping his now completely limp dick. "Like right now."

"Dean, you haven't embarrassed yourself," Cas said gently. "I don't expect you to stay hard while talking about something that's emotionally distressing." Dean heard him swallow loudly. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I do," Dean insisted. "Christ, Cas, I'm fucking thirty-four and I've been with more guys than girls, it needs to happen. Is it really such a big deal?"

"No. It's just... different." He twisted around and climbed up onto the bed, reaching up and cupping his hand against Dean's cheek. He turned his head towards him to meet his eyes. "You trust me, right?"

Dean kept his gaze locked and nodded.

Cas smiled. "Good. So relax and everything will be amazing. Okay?" Dean nodded again, and Cas pushed himself onto all fours, lifting his left leg to straddle Dean's thighs. He leaned over and pulled open Dean's night stand drawer, removing a condom from the box and retrieving the bottle of lubricant. He set them both down on the night stand and closed the drawer, then sat back and reached out, splaying his fingers across Dean's chest. Bending his fingers, he ghosted his nails across Dean's skin. Dean closed his eyes and shuddered, and Cas bent forward, capturing his lips in his own. Dean's mouth opened immediately for him as Cas dragged a thumb over Dean's nipple. Dean moaned into his mouth, so Cas pinched it, kind of hard, and Dean arched up off the mattress.

Cas shimmied up until he was sitting on Dean's hips, his hard, hot cock slotted right up against Dean's, which was quickly playing catch-up. Cas gave an experimental thrust of his hips, tearing his face away from Dean's to groan into his shoulder.

Dean's hands found Cas' backside, palming across his waist and lower back, feeling the curve of his spine. Even through his callouses, he could feel how soft Cas' skin was. And so warm... Cas pulled away from him, and Dean had to fight himself not to reach out and pull him back down.

Cas moved back onto his knees, lifting one and pushing one of Dean's legs out. He lowered his own again so that he was kneeling between Dean's legs. He leaned down and took Dean's cock in hand, pumping in a slow rhythm as he dragged his mouth along the inside of Dean's thigh, leaving open-mouthed kissed along his skin. Dean's skin was warm, and he smelled like soap and _Dean_. He honestly couldn't wait to get his mouth on him, and he nudged his face closer, using his left hand to gently guide Dean's legs open wider. Dean resisted at first, but then he swung his leg out as far as it would go, giving Cas a perfect view.

Dean could feel Cas' warm breath between his legs, ghosting over his perineum and his ass, and he tried to focus on the feeling of Cas' hand wrapped around his dick. What if Cas didn't like it? Before he could spend any more time doubting, Cas licked a wide stripe directly over Dean's entrance. Dean sucked in a breath so fast he nearly choked on it, and Cas continued working his tongue against his rim. Holy hell, he had no idea being rimmed would feel this _amazing_ , and a good thirty seconds had passed before he realized that if Cas was going to stop, he probably would've by now. He could stop worrying. Cas let go of his dick to match his other hand's position on the inside of Dean's other thigh, using his thumbs to rub and press around the rim as he went to town with his mouth.

Dean's legs were shaking by the time Cas lifted his head. Dean lifted his own, looking down at Cas through hooded lids. "Lube," Cas requested. Without breaking eye contact, Dean shot one arm out, feeling around for it on the dresser. When he located it, he shoved it at Cas, who quickly popped the cap and squirted some into his palm. He snapped it closed and set it on Dean's stomach.

The bottle was cold, and the muscles in Dean's abdomen jumped a bit. As Cas warmed the lubricant up between his fingers, Dean tossed the bottle back onto the nightstand, briefly hoping it wouldn't fall to the floor. Cas wiped the excess from his fingers down Dean's crack, then traced one slicked-up finger along his hole. Dean melted back into the pillows, and then he felt a bit of pressure. It faded quickly, and Cas was stock still, his only movement his left hand gently squeezing Dean's thigh. As Dean began to relax around him, he wiggled his finger a bit, rubbing along the rim with his thumb.

Cas removed his finger and laid his hand on Dean's thigh. "Roll over." Dean did so immediately, and the friction against his cock as it pressed into the bedspread felt good. Cas spread him open and swiped his fingers up along his entrance, collecting any extra lubricant, and gently pressed two fingers inside. Dean hissed and dropped his head into the pillow.

"Sorry," Cas said softly, his fingers stilling.

"It's fine," Dean breathed. "Really."

Cas twisted his fingers gently before pulling them back out. "Can you get on your knees for me?" Dean pushed himself up onto his knees and elbows, back arched, and Cas placed his left hand on Dean's hip, pushing the two fingers from his other hand back inside. His left hand slowly slid down Dean's thigh as he used his tongue alongside his fingers. A few minutes passed as he twisted them slowly, eager to add a third, but Dean wasn't opening up.

"You need to relax, Dean."

"I know," Dean grunted. "Dammit, I know. I'm trying." He swallowed and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Please don't be sorry."

The longer Cas worked, the more exposed Dean felt. It was probably only about three minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Cas was staring down at him, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his fingers in his fucking ass, and all Dean could think about was how _vulnerable_ he was. He felt kind of stupid, legs spread and ass in the air, face buried in the pillow, and he could feel that tiny little bit of loose skin on his abdomen. He was ninety-nine percent sure it wasn't actually noticeable, but he could feel the way it wasn't entirely attached to the muscles in his abdomen like it should be, and it was immensely distracting. He wondered what Cas was thinking, looking at him from this angle.

Cas' fingers slid out as he sat back on his heels. "You're extremely tense. What's wrong?"

Dean blinked. What exactly _was_ wrong? It wasn't really that it hurt, and it wasn't that it didn't feel awesome. "I, uh... I dunno." He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to figure out how to explain himself. Why the hell could he fantasize about it on the couch, but when it came time to put his money where his mouth was, he just couldn't fucking relax? "Sometimes... I can't really picture myself as anything other than... y'know, what I used to look like." He swallowed. "So I feel kind of dumb in this position." It had taken a lot of time staring into the mirror to recognize the person who was looking back at him. This position? Not something he'd ever seen himself do. "I- I don't know what it looks like, I-"

"I can show you?" Cas offered. "I can take a picture."

"I'd rather you didn't." He paused. "Fuck, I- I'm gonna lay back down now." He slid his knees out from under him and dropped down onto his stomach on the mattress.

Cas moved to lie down next to him, placing one hand on his lower back. "I understand that it's a vulnerable position, being on display like that. But you're very attractive, I promise."

Dean didn't say anything, instead shifting onto his side, back to Cas. All he'd wanted was to hear Cas say nice things again, and now he was doing it anyway and Dean hadn't even earned it. He'd done the opposite of earned it. He didn't deserve it.

"It's okay if you're not ready," Cas said.

"It's not that at all!" Dean protested. "I just feel like a fucking idiot. I got you amped up and then twice I started getting emotional and just... fucking ruined it."

"You didn't ruin it," Cas assured him. "It's fine. We just fooled around anyway."

" _Fuck_ ," Dean breathed. "I'm sorry." He'd never been so embarrassed in his adult life. "Raincheck?"

"You don't have to be sorry and you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I do, trust me. Tomorrow. I promise."

"Okay." Cas laid his head down on the pillow, snuggling up behind Dean and tossing his arm around his waist. "I still would've slept with you, you know. Back then," he said quietly.

Dean scoffed. "Yeah. Right. You say that."

"I'm serious. While I appreciate your attractiveness, it's not why I have sex with you. It's because I... I really like you, and I care about you, so..." He pressed his face into the nape of Dean's neck. "I want to be intimate with you. That wouldn't change if you were six-hundred pounds."

"Five-ninety," Dean mumbled.

Cas smiled softly, snorting a small laugh into the back of Dean's neck. "Okay. Five-ninety. My point still stands."

"...Thank you, Cas." Dean huffed a laugh. "But I don't ever want to think about or picture that ever again."

* * *

Cas awoke in the morning to the sound of music. As he came back to consciousness, he could barely hear it- but some part of it had definitely woken him up. He opened his eyes, and his arm was stretched across Floyd's chest. Dean was gone. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and rubbed his face. Floyd watched him out of the corner of one sleepy eye.

He pushed the blanket off and swung his legs over, taking a moment to stretch his stiff neck. After pulling his pajamas back on, he left the bedroom and went out into the kitchen, Floyd at his heels. Dean was at the stove, his back turned, singing along to the music as he cooked something on the stove. The music came from a small radio on the counter, set to the local oldies station.

_"Cupid, draw back your bow_   
_And let your arrow go_   
_Straight to my lover's heart for me_   
_Nobody but me_   
_Cupid please hear my cry_   
_And let your arrow fly_   
_Straight to my lover's heart for-"_

"Morning."

Dean jumped and spun around, placing one hand over his heart. The other held a spatula. "Jesus, you scared me." His mouth was stretched into a half-grin.

"Sorry," Cas said, stepping into the kitchen. "What're you making?"

"Omelettes," Dean said, turning back around and poking at the pan on the stove. "You're hungry, I assume?"

"Of course."

Dean turned his head slightly and smiled at him. "Good. Sit down, I'm almost done."

The station switched to the next song, and although Dean didn't sing along this time, he did hum to himself as he finished cooking breakfast. "Y'know, normally I'd never let you know I listen to this crap, but... I know you do, too... so."

"My mom listened to a lot of oldies," Cas said from where he sat at the table. "Not that that's why I like them, that's just... why I know them."

Dean nodded as he turned off the stove.

"So, are you off today?" He'd been pretty sure Dean was off on Wednesdays, but he'd been too out of it the day before to really think about it when he woke up to Dean gone.

"Yeah," Dean said, sliding the omelette onto a plate. "Jo asked me to switch with her last week." He approached the table with two plates, setting one down in front of Cas. "And I've been seeing Missouri on Wednesdays, so I had to cancel this week."

Cas watched as he sat down across from him with his own plate. "I'll come with you next time."

Dean paused mid-reach for his glass of water. "Really?"

Cas swallowed and nodded. If anything, he would just sit and listen. Even if he didn't decide to book his own appointment, it might help him understand Dean better. "Yes."

Dean's face lit up, a wide grin overtaking his features as he picked up his glass. "Awesome. You'll like her, trust me." He brought his glass to his lips and took a long gulp.

"I hope so," Cas said, picking up his fork and cutting into his omelette. "I haven't had the best experience with 'therapists'."

Dean set his glass back down and looked at Cas carefully. "You've been to therapy before?"

"I'm not sure you could call it that," Cas answered. "I've seen two different therapists, but it was, uh, conversion therapy." He didn't look at Dean, instead poking at the pieces of onion and pepper in the omelette.

"This is _nothing_ like that. I promise."

Cas lifted his eyes to meet Dean's. "I trust you."

Dean smiled warmly. "Good."

Cas slowly worked on his food. "So, do you have any plans for today?"

"I figured we could go get your bag, and then after that I'm not sure. I thought maybe we could go out to the trails with Floyd. He's been missing a lot of walks lately. And so have I."

Cas nodded. He'd been to the trails Dean was talking about a few times before, but it had been a long time since the last. He hoped he could keep up with Dean and Floyd. That would be embarrassing, if he couldn't even keep up with an elderly dog. "Okay."

"Did you have something else in mind?"

"No, that sounds good."

After breakfast, Dean helped Cas enter it into his tracker. He showed him how to scan all of the ingredients and enter in the amounts.

"This... seems like a lot of work," Cas said when they were done. "You do this for every meal?"

"You can add a bunch of ingredients and save it as a meal, and use that in the future," Dean answered. "I'll show you later. But that makes it a lot easier, and it's why I make a lot of the same stuff."

Cas nodded. "Okay." While Dean did the dishes, Cas texted his dealer. "He said we can come whenever."

"Okay. As soon as I'm done we can go." He paused. "I'm surprised he's up this early."

"He's always up."

"Does he sell more than weed?"

Cas looked up from his phone, but Dean had his back turned as he rinsed off a plate. "Why?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. I was just curious."

"Yes."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"I wouldn't really know. ...I got shrooms off him once."

Dean laughed. "Now there's an idea."

"...You'd try shrooms?"

"Sure, why not?"

"I don't know why I find that so surprising."

"Me neither." He set a fork into the dish drain and turned around, grabbing the hand towel off of the hook on the wall and drying his hands. "Ready?"

"...Am I supposed to tell him we want shrooms?"

Dean shook his head. "Maybe some other time."

"Okay. Um..." He looked down at himself. He was still wearing his pajamas. "I still need to get dressed."

Dean clapped his hands together. "Let's go then. Chop chop."

Cas stood up quickly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," Dean said, his voice sounding a bit sad. "I was just messing with you."

"Uh, right. I'll be right back." He hurried off to the bedroom and got dressed, and when he returned to the living room, Dean was standing by the front door with his boots and jacket on.

"Do you want to drive?" Dean asked.

Cas stopped short. "Uh... no... that- that's okay. I mean, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind driving but can we take your car? I obviously gave it a quick test drive but I'd like to drive it again, see how it's holding up."

"Sure," Cas said, bending down for his black Chuck Taylor's. They'd seen better days, but they still had some life left in them. They weren't nearly as ratty as he used to let them get in high school. Part of him wanted to just tell Dean to sell the car; was it really fair to expect Dean to pay the insurance and give Cas gas money when he didn't even have a job he needed to get to?

Dean grabbed Cas' keys off the hook and Cas followed him outside. "Alright Floyd, I'll be back in a bit," Dean called, pulling the door closed and locking it behind him. They got into the Lincoln and Dean slid the key into the ignition. She started up immediately, and Dean smiled. "She sounds good."

"Better than she did before," Cas noted.

"Yeah, well, I figured I'd give her some TLC while she was already in the shop."

Cas turned to look at him. "Are you saying you did extra work?" Dean's smile grew a little wider. "Thank you," Cas said. "I appreciate it."

"No problem."

Cas looked around at the interior. "You did an excellent job getting all of the blood stains out."

Dean's face fell instantly, and Cas regretted bringing it up. "Yeah. That was..." He shook his head. "Man, when I came in and saw that..."

"If it makes you feel any better, it was ninety-nine percent deer blood."

"That actually does make me feel better."

"And it could've been worse. I could've been impaled by it's antlers."

"Jesus, Cas."

Cas shrugged. "Just sayin'. I'm just lucky I got a face full of ass instead."

* * *

"So what's this guy's name?" Dean asked, following Cas down a wide hallway with shiny, laminate hardwood flooring and bright white walls.

"Crowley," Cas mumbled. "Alright guy. I've been dealing with him for three years. Hasn't given me a reason not to like him... so far."

"So far?"

Cas shrugged, taking a left as they came to a T. "He's a little off."

"Off?"

"I can't really put my finger on it. He's just weird."

"You shouldn't have told me that. Now I'm biased. You should've waited until we left and then asked if I thought he was weird."

Cas stopped at a doorway and turned to face Dean. "You're right." He turned back to the door and raised one fist to knock, and it opened almost immediately.

"Hello, Cassie," someone said, in what Dean was pretty sure was a British accent.

Cas stepped into the doorway and Dean followed, and an older man with a salt-and pepper beard smiled. "Well hello," he said, closing the door behind Dean. "Who's this?"

"This is Dean."

Dean smiled. "Hi." They both seemed to be waiting for him to do something, so he cleared his throat. "We're here for, uh-"

"I know what you're here for," Crowley said, moving towards the living room. He stopped and stood by the coffee table, where their bag sat in the center. Cas followed him, picking up the bag and dropping the money Dean had given him in its place. "So where'd you find this one?"

"His job," Cas said distractedly, reaching into the bag and pulling out a nugget of weed. He held it up to his face and inspected it as Crowley looked Dean over.

"Nice find," Crowley commented, and Dean raised one eyebrow. He wasn't sure how he felt about the way Crowley was looking at him- like he was a piece of meat. While he was kind of flattered, he was mostly uncomfortable. His eyes flicked over to Cas, who had his entire nose in the bag, smelling the contents. Crowley met his eyes. "When Cassie's finished with you, come find me," he said, his voice low.

Cas heard him, though. "Back off, Crowley," he snapped, coming around the couch to stand next to Dean.

"Oh, come off it," Crowley sighed, rolling his eyes. "You've never brought the same guy in here more than once, so what do you care?"

"What the fuck- That doesn't mean anything. I can buy weed myself, I don't need a chaperone."

"Whatever you say," Crowley replied. "I just don't see the harm in giving the man another option."

Dean could see the gears turning in Cas' head as he thought of an appropriate response. But, he either couldn't come up with one, or he decided it wasn't worth it. "Thanks for the weed," he said finally, his mouth turned down in a scowl.

"My pleasure," Crowley said, lip curled into a smile.

Cas just turned around and headed for the door, and Dean gave one last glance at Crowley- who gave him a creepy smirk- before following him out.

"Wow, okay, so he's definitely weird, biased or not," Dean commented after an awkward stretch of silence, as they made their way down the hallway.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Does he do that to every guy you bring here?"

"No," Cas answered, holding the door for Dean as they exited the building. "He must think you've very attractive."

Dean wasn't sure what to say. "Oh."

They were nearing the car now, and Cas walked right up to the passenger door and put his hand on the handle, peering over the roof at Dean. "Why?"

Dean shrugged as he jammed the key into the lock. "I was just wondering." He paused. "Nice ego boost, I guess." He yanked the door open and dropped down into the drivers seat.

"I guess," Cas agreed, opening his door and getting into the car.

Dean stared out the windshield for a moment. "...Did I just make this awkward?"

Cas huffed out a laugh. "No. _Crowley_ made it awkward."

"Okay. Good." He slid the key into the ignition and started the car. When they arrived back at the house, a small cardboard box was sitting on the front step. "Hey, your thing came!"

"What thing?" Cas asked, watching as Dean scrambled out of the car.

"I got you something," Dean said, exiting the car and walking up to the door. Cas followed behind him as Dean picked up the box. They went inside and Dean set it down on the kitchen table, quickly ripping it open and shaking out the contents. A circular metal item hit the table with a loud clank, followed by a wooden box. "It's a one-hitter," Dean said, picking up the box and pressing his thumb to the top. It slid open and a metal cigarette shot out across the table, narrowly missing Cas and landing on the floor. Dean looked down at the box, eyebrows raised. "Hmm. Powerful spring." He set it down on the table as Cas bent down to pick up the cigarette. "Anyway, I figured it would be easier than rolling joints all the time. Especially when you're driving. And the grinder's for grinding the weed you fill it with, obviously."

Cas set the metal cigarette down on the table next to the grinder. "A one-hitter... Why did I never think of this? Thank you."

"You're welcome!" Dean said, smiling brightly. He was clearly pleased that Cas liked the gift. Cas sat down at the table to grind up some weed while Dean crossed the kitchen and disappeared into the pantry.

Cas had just finished filling the one side of the wooden box with ground-up weed when Dean emerged from the pantry with a backpack.

"What's in there?" Cas asked, squeezing the air out of the bag of weed and folding the top over. He set it down on the table next to the grinder.

"Food and water," Dean answered, setting the backpack down on the kitchen chair.

"...How long are we going to be up there?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. A few hours? I mainly just brought a few things to give us options, not to eat it all. And I've got a water bowl and some treats for Floyd."

Cas nodded and stood from the table, slipping the wooden one-hitter box into his back pocket. "Can we stop at a gas station so I can get cigarettes?"

"Of course." He swung the backpack over his shoulder. "Floyd! You wanna go for a ride?"

Floyd jumped up from his bed and flew across the room to where Dean was standing, dancing in place and looking up at him, tail wagging furiously. Dean smiled and nodded towards the door. "C'mon!" They made their way to the door, and Dean grabbed Floyd's leash off of the hook by the door on the way out, although he let Floyd run loose to the Impala.

Floyd stuck his head out of the back window the entire ride, eyes closed and tongue lolling in the wind.

* * *

"Are we going all the way to the top?" Cas gasped.

"No," Dean answered, slowing to a stop so Cas could catch up with him. "Do you want to stop for a minute?"

Cas nodded. "I need fucking water," he croaked.

Dean shrugged his backpack off and unzipped the side, pulling out a water bottle and handing it to Cas. He pulled out another one, along with a little plastic bowl, and set it on the ground. He poured half of the bottle into the bowl, and Floyd quickly gulped up the entire thing. Dean filled it again, with only a quarter of the bottle this time, and Floyd took two laps before walking away to sniff some bushes. Dean finished off what was left in the bottle and threw it back in his bag. He watched as Cas downed his entire bottle.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," Cas gasped, taking a deep breath after chugging sixteen ounces of water. "Just thirsty." He wiped his forearm across his sweaty forehead.

Dean dumped what Floyd hadn't drank, smacking the bowl against a rock a few times to get the remaining water droplets out. He tossed it back into his bag and zipped it up. "Are you ready or do you need a minute?"

"No," Cas said, shaking his head. "Let's go."

As they walked on, Cas could tell that Dean was slowing his pace so he could keep up. Floyd seemed impatient, sniffing as far ahead as he could on the long leash Dean had him attached to.

"Doesn't seem like this much of an incline until you're actually goin' up, huh?" Dean asked.

"No," Cas agreed breathlessly. "It certainly doesn't."

"I know it's hard, but try to stand up straight," Dean said, walking backwards up the trail and only barely short of breath. "When you hunch forward you're compressing your lungs and making it harder to breathe."

Cas only nodded, making an effort to straighten up. He wished Dean would turn back around; the back of his neck was already drenched in sweat and he was sure his face was red. He felt disgusting.

Finally they made it to flat ground again, and as they exited the cover of the trees, the view was beautiful. "Damn that's gorgeous," Dean commented. He looked over at Cas, who stood a few feet behind him, trying to catch his breath. "Would you want to travel?"

"As long as it's not hiking Mt. Everest," Cas panted.

Dean laughed. "No." He looked back out at the landscape. "I just mean seeing more than Texas."

"Whatever you want, Dean. I never really thought about it, but it sounds fun. Um..." He took a deep breath and let it back out. "Could I have more water, please?"

"Yeah, of course." Dean tore his eyes away from the landscape, quickly unzipping his backpack and handing Cas another water bottle.

"I'm going to sit down," Cas said, pointing towards a rock formation just past the treeline. Dean nodded and followed. It was in the shade, and Dean filled Floyd's bowl again and set it down on the ground. "I didn't realize just how out of shape I am," Cas admitted, wiping his forearm across his face.

"It happens," Dean said, lying back on the rock. Floyd's leash was looped lazily around his wrist. "You get used to doing what you do every day and you think you're fine. Then you try and do something slightly extra and your body's not prepared." He closed his eyes and sighed. "When I had that last doctor's appointment at four-fifty and I refused to go again- I didn't really go much of anywhere after that. I didn't see much of a point. Charlie usually came over to hang out." He chewed his bottom lip. "Anyway, what I was getting at was when I finally went again two years and a hundred and fifty pounds later- holy shit it was weird. Just getting in and out of the car was like, completely fucking foreign. And way more difficult than it should've been. That's when I was really like... what the fuck have I done to myself."

Cas was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I'm pretty disappointed I can't even walk up a hill. Let's just hope I'm never being chased by a murderer."

Dean laughed, and Cas found himself smiling. But then, for some reason, he thought back to the other day. "I'm sorry about the things my mother said to you."

Dean scoffed. "Please, Cas. I've had way worse said to me- I got over it."

"That doesn't make it right."

"Of course not, but don't worry about it. It's not your fault, anyway."

"I know," Cas said softly.

"I'm more worried about the things she said to you, to be honest."

Cas let out a bitter laugh. "It's nothing I'm not used to. Like it was the first time she's called me a slob, or pathetic, or a lazy shit, or a faggot."

"I thought your mom was too good for swearing."

Cas looked down at Dean out of the corner of his eye, only for a split second before looking back out through the trees. "She's a very different person when she's drinking. It's like... she thinks it's okay to lose her shit and god will forgive her the next morning. I don't know. She just lets it all loose. I can't even begin to tell you some of the shit she's said to me while she was drunk."

"I don't think I want to know."

"You really don't. ...Maybe she's just got multiple personalities." When Dean didn't say anything, he huffed a sigh. "Just my luck that they'd all be awful."

Dean slid his leg over to nudge Cas' thigh. "C'mon, let's smoke. And lay back with me."

Twenty minutes and a bag of trail mix later, Cas was curled up into Dean's side, eyes closed.

"Can I take a picture?" Dean asked.

"Just don't put it on Facebook," Cas mumbled, turning his head to bury his face in Dean's armpit.

"Why not?"

"Because I look like shit."

"Fine." Cas heard the shutter on Dean's phone go off. "And you don't look like shit," he said.

"Whatever you say."

Dean could feel him smiling against his chest. "You ready to head back?"

"Yeah. I'm tired."

"I'll bet."

"How long did it take us to get up here?"

"Two hours."

"Ugh."

"It'll be faster on the way down," Dean promised, sitting up. "C'mon."

Cas dragged himself off of the rock and into a standing position. It definitely was faster heading back down, and they were back at the parking lot before they knew it.

"Do you want to come back on Saturday?"

"Yes. I want to do this often. And eventually go farther."

Dean smiled as he put the Impala in reverse. "Good."

* * *

"You ready for dinner?"

Cas jolted awake to see Dean hovering above him. "Fuck," he mumbled, rubbing his face. He got up off the couch and made his way over to the table, and on his plate was salad, and what looked like fish. Across the table, Dean's plate was the same, albeit a slightly smaller portion.

Dean appeared with two glasses of water, placing one down in front of Cas before taking his seat.

"What is it?" Cas asked, staring down at his plate.

"Salmon," Dean answered, picking up his fork. "And I'm not your mom, so don't worry," he added, cracking a grin. "It's good, I promise." He cut into the fillet as Cas picked up his fork and did the same.

Cas gave an approving murmur around his first bite. "You're right," he said, once he'd swallowed. "It is good."

"Thank you." Dean smiled. "We have to log it into your tracker when we're done. Bit of advice, always do it beforehand, otherwise you'll forget. But I didn't want it to get cold."

Cas nodded. "Can I, um... have dressing?"

"Right. Sorry." Dean stood up and grabbed a container of Italian from the fridge, pouring a bit into a small cup he grabbed out of the cabinet and sliding it over. "Not sure if you wanted ranch, but it's got way too much fat," he said quietly.

"It's okay. I know there's going to be a million changes." He picked up the cup to pour it onto his salad, but Dean held a hand out.

"Wait. Dunk your fork in and then put some salad on it. Don't just pour it all on."

Cas nodded and did as he was told. It didn't carry the usual amount of flavor he was used to on the rare occasion he ate a dressing-drenched salad, but he could actually taste the ingredients of the salad beneath the dressing, so he guessed it wasn't that bad. All the ingredients were fresh and crisp, and it was surprisingly much more flavorful without a ton of dressing.

Dean was watching him carefully, and then he cleared his throat. "I'm not, like... being annoying, am I?"

Cas smiled, swallowing his food before he spoke. "No, Dean. I asked you to do this. It's okay."

Dean nodded and returned to his food. Once they finished, he collected their plates. "Finish your water, it'll help fill you up." He turned and made his way towards the sink, picking up the sponge and beginning to wash the dishes.

"Do you want me to wash them?" Cas asked from behind him, where he was still seated at the table.

"It's okay, I got it. You can go get changed, if you want."

"I actually kind of need a shower."

"Right," Dean said without turning around. "Duh. Me too. Let me just finish washing these first, otherwise you'll get no hot water."

"Um... speaking of that, how long do I have?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, if you need to shower after me, I need to save you enough hot water... right? My mom would make me be in and out in ten minutes."

Dean didn't respond right away, and Cas could see the tension in his shoulders. Finally, "You can shower as long as you want, Cas," he said, his voice steady. "If you use up all the hot water, I'll wait for more to heat up. It doesn't take long."

Cas felt like there was tension in the room, and he didn't understand why. After a few moments of silence, he finally asked, "...Did I do something wrong?"

Dean set the last dish he was rinsing into the drain and rinsed his hands off. He turned around, towel in hand, and began to dry them. "Not at all, why?"

"I..." Cas trailed off, unsure of how to explain himself. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but he just felt like he'd done something wrong and pissed Dean off. "I don't know. You seemed pissed off."

Dean's shoulders sagged a bit and he hung the hand towel back on the hook to dry. "I'm not pissed off," he said with a sigh. "Well, maybe a little. But not at you, at your mom. Okay?"

Cas nodded slowly. "Okay."

"So go take a shower. And take your time."

Cas finished his last sip of water and stood up, and as he left the kitchen to cross the living room he could see Dean taking his glass to the sink out of the corner of his eye.

As he stepped under the hot water, he thought about their interaction in the kitchen. Maybe he shouldn't bring his mother up anymore. It was clearly distressing to Dean, and what good did that do either of them?

He was done washing before he knew it, and he was pretty sure it had only been ten minutes. He wasn't sure what else he could do with the time, so he leaned against the tiles and turned around, angling the shower head so it beat down on his sore neck and shoulders. It felt good, and he closed his eyes and lost himself in the sound of the rushing water.

Suddenly he realized the perfect way to kill some time in the shower. It should've been obvious, but he'd never had time at his mom's. Even if no one was home, he was always terrified they were going to come home while he was in the shower and bust in if he took too long. He thought back to the night before, when he had Dean on his hands and knees on the bed, only this time Dean wasn't a nervous wreck. Cas had three fingers in already, and Dean was leaning back into him, eager for more.

He reached down and took his dick in hand, stroking slowly as he imagined lining himself up. He sunk in so easily, and his brain supplied a beautiful moan he'd gotten from Dean one of the other times they'd fooled around. He started stroking a little faster, squeezing his fist around the head on each upstroke. He could see his hands on Dean's hips, each thumb resting on either side of that faint horizontal scar.

"Cas... more, please..." Dean whined, head turned and face mashed into the pillow.

Cas complied, surging his hips forward. He braced himself on the shower wall with one arm, head lowered and fist pumping furiously. In his mind, he removed one hand from Dean's hip, leaning forward and grabbing onto Dean's hair. "Tell me what you want, Dean," he said into his ear.

Dean bit his lip, briefly flashing Cas those perfectly white teeth, before he let it pop back out and his tongue came out to wet it.

"Just tell me what you want, anything, and I'll do it. But you have to tell me." He just needed to hear him say it. He was already so fucking close, he just needed to hear fantasy Dean say it.

Dean opened his mouth just as Cas hit his prostate, and a groan escaped instead. He choked down some air, swallowed, and tried again. "Fuck... come in me, Cas, please. _Please_."

That was exactly what Cas was waiting to hear, and he dropped his head onto Dean's shoulder, his grip on his hair only tightening as he came. He bit down into the meat on Dean's shoulder, and Dean actually _mewled_ , coming in spurts onto the sheets.

Cas slowly opened his eyes as his ears once again registered the sound of running water. He closed them again as he took a moment to come down, and then he rinsed off the tiles and himself and turned off the water.

Dean was in the bedroom when Cas entered, sitting on the edge of the bed and doing something on his phone. "All yours," Cas said nonchalantly. He felt weird that he'd just jerked off in Dean's shower to the thought of Dean; but he guessed it was _their_ shower now, right? Although he still felt that it was wrong getting off on the thought of something that Dean had been uncomfortable with. _That_ was wrong... right?

Dean looked up from his phone and smiled. "Feel better?"

"Yeah." Before he could say anything else, Dean set his phone down on the bed and spoke again.

"Listen, I'm sorry about before. In the kitchen. I don't want you to ever think that I'm angry at you over what your mom did. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about it, if you want to. Or ask questions if you doubt something's normal." He paused, observing the towel wrapped around Cas' waist. "Restricting someone's showers to ten minutes isn't normal, especially when they're an adult contributing towards bills."

Cas wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he just nodded.

"Alright," Dean said, clearly looking to change the subject, "You were only in there for twenty minutes so I'm pretty sure there's enough hot water left for me. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

Dean left the room and Cas began drying off. Once he'd gotten dressed in his pajamas, he sat down on the bed to check his own phone. He had a few Facebook notifications, mainly Gabe and Kevin tagging him in memes or videos. As he was replying to one of the tags, Dean's phone went off next to him. Out of instinct, he glanced down at the source of the noise, and it was a long block of text from someone named Benny.

Cas tried to wrack his brain. Dean had mentioned him the first time Cas had come over. He was the reason Dean kept an ashtray outside, so he must have come over fairly often, but Cas couldn't recall Dean really mentioning him aside from that. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he found himself skimming over the text message before Dean's phone screen blacked out again.

**Benny:** ****sounds like a good time lol. it's been great, actually. i'm gonna be back in town for a little while this weekend**...  
**

The screen went black. "Dammit." Hating himself for already not trusting Dean, he pressed the home button and the screen lit up again.

****Benny:** ** ******sounds like a good time lol. it's been great, actually. i'm gonna be back in town for a little while this weekend****... do u wanna get together? its been way too long and i know how u are, i'm sure ur ready to let loose  
**

Cas wasn't sure what the hell that was supposed to mean, but he didn't like it. Did Benny just mean drinking? From what Cas had seen, Dean wasn't much of a big drinker. The text definitely gave off a hook-up vibe, and Cas found himself sitting there for nearly ten minutes in silence wondering _what the fuck_ before Dean finally came back into the room. He acted interested in his own phone as Dean dried himself off and pulled his pajamas on, then picked up his phone. Cas watched out of the corner of his eye as Dean stared at the phone for a brief moment before he began typing away. Then he hit send and locked the screen, slipping it into his pocket and looking over at Cas.

"Netflix?"

"...Sure."

Dean raised one eyebrow. "You alright?"

"Uh, yeah," Cas said quickly, standing up. As he followed Dean out into the living room, he thought back on the things Gabe had said. He was beginning to worry now that Gabe had been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was dumb for moving so fast-

Before he knew it, he could hear Floyd crunching his kibble in the kitchen and Dean was plopping down next to him on the couch. Dean leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek, then pulled back and frowned at him.

"Something's obviously bothering you."

Cas looked into his eyes. He looked genuinely concerned, and that was when Cas decided he wasn't going to do _this_ , whatever 'this' was. He wasn't going to do that thing where he just sat back to "see what happens", until it got to the point where he walked in on his 'partner' actively fucking someone else. He wasn't going to ignore things that didn't seem right. So many red flags he'd ignored before, and he wasn't going to do that again. He wanted them to be honest with each other, so that's what he was going to do.

"Um... kind of. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Dean replied, clearly looking more concerned.

"What, exactly... is your relationship with Benny?"

Dean looked confused for a split second, before realizing Cas must have seen the text pop up on his phone. "Ohhhh," he breathed, looking relieved. "Benny is a _very_ good friend." His expression changed again, and he looked a bit worried about how Cas would react to his next words. "...But we've also fooled around. A lot." He licked his lips nervously. "We haven't in a while though." He paused. "Not since before you and I met."

Cas nodded slowly. "I believe you."

Dean studied his face for a moment, frowning slightly. "I believe that you _want_ to believe me, but I don't think you actually do." He leaned away from Cas to reach into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Here." He unlocked it and opened his conversation with Benny.

Cas gave him a small smile; he didn't want Dean to feel it necessary to prove anything, but he appreciated it all the same. He scrolled back to the beginning of the day's conversation.

**Benny: hey brotha, how's it hangin?**

**Dean: hey, it's been a while! i've been alright. working a lot as usual. yourself? how's biz?  
**

**Benny: sounds like a good time lol. it's been great, actually. i'm gonna be back in town for a little while this weekend... do u wanna get together? its been way too long and i know how u are, i'm sure ur ready to let loose  
**

**Dean: it has been way too long. i'd love to hang out, but that's it though. i'm with someone, believe it or not. he even moved in already. maybe we can all get together? i'd like you to meet him, he's really cool.  
**

Just as Cas finished reading Dean's response, a wave of relief washing over him, another text came through from Benny.

**Benny: well damn, i never thought i'd see the day. dean winchester settlin down. with a dude. you wouldn't even move in with lisa after what, 2 years? good for you. i'd love to meet him, i'm comin in friday night and leaving sunday evenin.**

Cas handed Dean his phone back. "You really think I'm cool?"

Dean, who had been watching Cas carefully, burst into laughter. "Yes, Cas."

"I'm sorry I doubted you," Cas mumbled, eyes cast downward.

"Don't be. I can see how that text would look really bad out of context."

"I shouldn't have looked at your phone in the first place."

"It's okay, Cas. I left it right next to you. I don't expect you to look away if it goes off." Cas wasn't going to admit that he'd purposely looked. He was sure Dean already knew. "And if I wanted privacy, I wouldn't have left it right next to you," he continued. Cas nodded, and without a word Dean stood up and walked away, out into the hallway.

 _Shit_. He was pissed off. He said he wasn't, but his mother would also say she wasn't mad, and then explode later. _I'm fucking blowing this already. I'm acting like a crazy jealous girlfriend._

Dean returned seconds later with the bag of weed from the bedroom and a bong. Cas' eyes widened, and Dean smiled. "Smoke?"

"You kept it?" Cas asked, eyes glues on the glass piece as Dean rounded the coffee table to take a seat on the couch.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know... You broke up with me, so I thought maybe you'd gotten rid of it," Cas said quietly.

Dean frowned. "No, Cas." He set the bong on the table and the bag in his lap, opening it and pulling out a nug. He broke it up as best he could and packed it into the bowl head. Once it was full, he picked it back up and held it out to Cas.

Cas lifted his legs up onto the couch, sitting cross-legged, and settled the base of the bong in his lap. He admired the colors blown into the glass in the glow of the TV before he realized Dean was holding out a lighter.

The bong had been his birthday present. He'd been worried about his mother finding it and smashing it, so he'd kept it at Dean's house. When they broke up, he didn't think he'd ever seen it again.

They smoked and watched TV for a while. Eventually, Cas ended up lying across Dean's lap, with Dean sideways, feet propped up on the coffee table. Dean's fingers were threaded through his hair, lazily scratching his scalp. Cas was having trouble keeping his eyes open, and he was close to dozing off.

"Did you still wanna do that tonight?" Dean asked. The words came out quickly, but his voice was quiet.

Cas stirred slightly. "I don't think my legs are good for much right now. They're like jell-o."

Cas felt Dean's stomach jump as he huffed a little laugh. "Okay. Do you wanna go to bed?"

"Mhmm." He slowly pushed himself up, rubbing his face as Dean grabbed the weed. In the bedroom, Dean tucked it away in Cas' night stand drawer as Cas stripped down. He left the clothes in a pile on the floor for the morning and crawled under the blanket, as Dean did the same on the opposite side of the bed.

Dean shut off the lamp and rolled over, wrapping one arm tightly around Cas. "You're so warm," he murmured, pressing his nose into the back of Cas' neck.

"I know."

"You know your legs are gonna hurt even more tomorrow, right?"

"Dammit."

Dean laughed against his skin, then pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. "Night, Cas."

"Goodnight Dean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE let me know what you thought! Whenever I need motivation to write I go back and read all of your awesome comments. Next chapter will be Cas' surgery, their appointment with Missouri... And we'll see what else is in store... stay tuned!


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